


Shades of green and red

by AtysTyrma



Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol, Bulges and Nooks, F/F, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Light Angst, MSPA reader appears but only in the first chapter, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Quadrant Confusion, Quadrant Vacillation, Sloppy Makeouts, Suicidal Thoughts, Teenagers being mean and stupid, bickering matesprits, feat. a brief mention of a revolutionary tealblood to come aka Zizi, one (1) pesterlog, then mysteriously disappears which is never brought up again, this began as shameless PWP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-01-16 14:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18523309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtysTyrma/pseuds/AtysTyrma
Summary: "Never have I ever pailed outdoors."Lynera chokes on the drink and coughs; her chest is burning like that one time some ignorant set the Violet section on fire. She also tries and fails miserably in not spraying her part of the couch with alcohol, which is a complicated task; because the coughing. Just. Won't. Stop.Daraya raises an eyebrow, "Alright, that was disappointing but not surprising." She states but she drinks.And."Wait! You did what outdoors!?" Lynera hisses and is pretty sure her face is an utter muddle of disbelief and confusion.





	1. Chapter 1

“Did you figure I was the only one who might be loose enough to be willing to clean out the cobwebs before you get shipped off to space church and never have the chance again?”

The words struck Lynera like a bullet through her chest. The blaring music of the speakers plus the suffocating mass of people around her, forgotten. She clutches her skirt and tries to fight off the tears that burn her eyes.

“Just wondering.” He adds and finishes her off.

She tries to breathe in, and a messy sob breaks out of her windpipe instead. Her emotions crumbling in an avalanche. How DARE he. After she got out of her way to come to this stupid party, with all these over-the-top artificial trolls. She even texted. Oh, God--

The alien is staring wide-eyed at her. Crossed and queasy about the situation. Her new friend is uncomfortable. Because of her fault. The idea of making new friends a sweep ago would have never crossed her mind because that’s just a distraction from her cavern duties but--

(But even if she has only talked to the alien a few limited times it helps Lynera quell the crippling feeling of loneliness that haunts her.)

They've definitely crossed her as a snake now, haven’t they? They’ll probably block her on Chittr and never speak to her again. It will just be Bronya, and Lynera realizes that she doesn't need anyone else besides Bronya, honestly. Lynera can live with her flush crush not being returned, so long as she can keep tracking Bronya around and writing--

This may not be the best moment to think about the kind of prose she writes about Bronya.

Lanque's sneering at Lynera. Giving her his classic under-the-brow look and she wants to rip his trachea out. He just had to open his mouth and bring out the dirty racks, didn't he? He's always so cruel and straightforward. He's plainly basking in her uneasiness like a cat playing with his food. She's never trusted him.

(But he’s right, isn’t he? She did talk about his promiscuous ways behind his back.)

God, this was a dumb idea. If this is what being more sociable means, she'd rather spend the next sweep all alone in her study; thank you very much. The alien raises their hand towards Lynera, and she snaps like a twig; instinctively hissing at their weak attempt at pacification and flying the room. She can feel Lanque’s judgemental look burning hot against her neck while she pushes her way out through inebriated trolls.

This is the first and last time she attends a party. She had heard about it from Daraya; and although Bronya was somewhat anxious about Daraya having any information of the kind of parties hosted in the cerulean district, Lanque had suggested Lynera went. When Lynera had told him about her new friend, he seemed so excited. He'd beamed saying it was a nice change to see Lynera make acquaintances outside the caverns and how she should go and meet new trolls with her alien friend.

It sounded like a good idea at the time.

She trips over a passed out troll in the backyard. The blow against the grass knocks the air out of her lungs, and she wheezes. For Dolorosa’s sorrow, DOES EVERYTHING NEED TO GO WRONG TONIGHT.

“Leaving so soon?”

OH, FOR FUCKS SAKE.

She tries to ignore the condescending voice and stands up, dusting soil off her skirt and vest with one hand, because her other palm is lacerated and bleeding. 'Just don't listen to the viciously murderous impulse nagging at the back of your mind, Lynera' she tries to reason with herself.

Breath in, breath out.

“I know trolls like you. Thinking they can mingle with us Highfolk and, see, this is what happens.”

Lynera's eyes shoot up.

It’s the Cerulean Blood; the BITCH who’s hosting the party. She has a hand over her mouth, and her smirk screams arrogance. There’s an Indigo Blood besides her who seems somewhat irked by the interruption of their conversation but looks at both the Cerulean and Lynera with amused eyes.

She tries to walk past them, but the wench blocks her way out and smiles — all fangs.

“Don’t you dare say my party was shit or anything just because you got scared of the real world Moldblood.”

She’s caught off guard when Lynera shoots forward and grabs the hem of her cape.

“Look slut,” she hisses, eyes flaring orange. She's fucking tired of smug trolls and their condescending shit, “you can take your party and your influence and shove it up your NOOK!”

The Indigo seems torn between interfering or watching, and before he can make up his mind, Lynera snarls his way, because she isn't in control of her impulses right now and would gladly take any given chance he gives her to jump and slash his face. He raises his palms before stepping back.

The Cerulean scoffs indignantly and pushes her hands away. "As if I'd do anything you'd suggest Whoreblood!” She counters, face flushed blue and eyes narrowed. If only Lynera had brought her bayonet, this would have taken a turn for the gruesome.

Lynera snarls and turns away, trying to tune out the part of her mind that’s screaming for blood before making a break for the road. She tries to ignore the suffocating knot in her chest, focusing on the pavement beneath her feet and tries not to trip, again. She wipes her eyes when the scene at the house plays inside her head and ultimately makes it down the main road and towards the brooding caverns.

Home.

***

The moment the comforting embrace of the caverns swallows her a sigh of relief leaves her. She looks down at her ruined skirt and bloodied palms. This is what she gets for trying to meet new people. She needs to get back to routine and forget this night and everything related to it. It’s not like she was doing that bad with just Bronya. She loves talking to Bronya. Who needs more friends? They’re just a distraction from her tasks and an impractical liability.

Bronya, yes. Maybe she can talk to her about what happened? She’s so understanding, seeing her is always good. Really good. Lynera plays with the thought for a moment before realizing something. Bronya doesn’t know about the rumors surrounding Lanque, and if Lynera starts spilling her guts, Bronya will probably want to know why everything transpired. The last thing Lynera needs is to make Bronya angry, because then--

(Then she’ll end up completely isolated.)

She can’t lose Bronya. Oh, God--

“What’s wrong?” Lynera looks down and realizes Wanshi's staring at her, frowning. She has a book tucked underneath her purrbeast sweater and is fidgeting with the hems of it.

“Nothing's wrong. I just fell.” It’s the truth. Besides, it’s not like she's going to spill her guts to Wanshi of all people. She’s five. Wanshi tilts her head and raises an eyebrow, not buying the answer, but Lynera ignores her and walks past with her office in mind. She's not going to set foot in the Jade Quarters for at least a sweep, and she doesn't need to, really--

... Wait a second. This passageway only leads to the outside of the caverns. She looks back. “Are you going anywhere?”

Wanshi stops in her tracks and turns around. She trots towards Lynera with an annoyed look on her face, matching her pace. “Not anymore." She mumbles before side-eyeing Lynera, after a short awkward moment she takes the book from underneath her sweater. "It must have been a really nasty fall if you aren't already yelling.” Wanshi murmurs. Lynera stares at her with a vacant expression and decides to indulge her because if Wanshi's gotten something inside her mind, there’s no helping it.

“It- Was. My skirt’s ruined and this hand is going to be a pain to work with.” Wanshi nods warily and grimaces when she sees the blood. “Lynera! You need to clean that!” She asserts grabbing her hand way too forcefully, and Lynera forces herself to swallow the hiss that almost escapes her throat.

“Yes,” she croaks out and eases her hand from the grip, “I was about to do that.” Wanshi looks somewhat squeamish by the blood (it's not that bad, it just looks gory) and Lynera wonders. Should she teach her about the cruel parts of Alternia? What will happen to Jades if they don’t perform well in The Enclave or serfdom? She’s by no means as naïve as Lynera would like to think, but if she keeps on having these escapades from the caverns, she’s eventually bound to find danger.

(She will, someday. Bronya said Wanshi was her charge since Jade Bloods don't have lusii. But not now. Now Lynera only feels like locking herself inside her study and blasting a playlist of angsty songs.)

“Aren’t you supposed to be feeding the Beta Mother Grub?” Lynera inquires, raising an eyebrow. Wanshi may not be naïve, but she’s awfully sly.

Wanshi raises the book like that's explanation enough and rolls her eyes when Lynera keeps on expecting an answer. “Well, I got bored,” before Lynera can open her mouth Wanshi confesses, “and Daraya is covering my shift.”

Lynera gives her a once over. Exchanging turns leads to arguments which consequently makes everyone’s work harder. (For some reason a fire started three months ago in the Violet compound the last time Daraya decided to skip her turn.)

But all the fight was drained out of her the moment Lynera stepped inside the caverns.

“Daraya's covering you?”

“Yes! She owed me a shift.”

“...”

A pleasant silence falls between the two of them and, on the left wall, Lynera sees the crack in the rock leading to her blessed studio. Up ahead, the passage opens up into a vast expanse which is home to the Quarters, and from there the caverns ramify into two main areas; the Alpha zone with the younger Mother Grub and the Beta zone with the mature one.

Just when she's about to turn left Wanshi speaks. “Aren’t you going to get angry?” She asks ears tilted back.

“No. I'm just--” Lynera takes off her glasses and rubs her eyes, “I’m tired, Wanshi, and I’d like to be left alone.” Wanshi raises both eyebrows, clearly surprised.

“Oh, okay.” She adds somewhat uneasy. “I’ll tell Daraya to leave you alone, I’d also tell Lanque, but I don't know where he is.”

Fire burns hot behind her eyes and seizes her throat. Lynera nods and bites the inside of her cheek, ignoring the ache burning in her chest, “Thank you.”

Wanshi shrugs and kicks some dust, “I'm gonna go now.” She mumbles, before looking up bashfully and chirping.

Lynera clears her throat and apprehensively chirps back, vocal cords unused by the resonance. Wanshi doesn’t seem to mind, because her face lights up and she smiles like a cat before scurrying away, away from the entrance of the cave, thankfully, to do God knows what.

Lynera sighs for the umpteenth time this night before walking down the corridor to her secluded study. She needs some time for herself; then she’ll get back to her duties. Like nothing ever happened.

***

Daraya steps back, out of harm's way. Disgust painted all over her face. The Mother Grub, distressedly, proceeds to puke the concoction of pills and nutrients she was just fed. Well, shit, that’s counterproductive, when the damn thing had finally swallowed the dough she just had to go on and decide to make things harder for the both of them didn't she? The white Matron huffs in distress and flatters her vestigial wings while crawling away from the troll and the mess on the floor.

“No offense but, can you not?” Daraya wrinkles her nose and goes to take a sweepingleech out of the utility crate near the Matron. “It’s not like I’d rather be doing anything else than being here, you know?” She scornfully adds. The Mother Grub perks up when she hears the worm squeak and scratches her segmented legs curiously across the ground while the device cleans the floor.

There are two Mother Grub’s in the caverns, and Daraya has to be stuck with the Beta one doesn't she; though when it comes to grubs, she’d rather be taking care of Lowblood wrigglers instead of feisty Highblood grubs. Those things have razors for teeth, and she has seen the scars in Bronya’s hands. The thing is, if she manages to sneak a whole bar of grubloaf, the Mother Grub tends to be awfully compliant. Evidently, that also makes her a squeamish little bitch when it comes to eating anything else.

“As much as you want to, you can’t just live on grubloaf.” The Mother Grub stares at her relentless. "You're going to get fat and sick, and I'm not going to be the one cleaning your puke." Har jaws chatter at the tone of Daraya’s voice, (it's evident that the monster doesn't understand her, the thing is a big fucking cross between an oversized grub and a caterpillar) before crawling forward and sniffing the sweepingleech. Daraya places her face between her hands and tries to keep her calm. She should have told Wanshi to find someone else to cover her shift, but the other Jade had that damn purrbeast book in her hands and looked so earnest, besides it wasn’t like Daraya had anything better to do at the time anyways--

A sickening crunch and a squeak drag Daraya out of her thoughts.

The Mother Grub is contentedly munching on the leech, and the poor device is creaking in agony while staining the ground and the Matron's jaws with a fluorescent green fluid. “STOP! NO.” Daraya lunges forward and grabs the worm because like hell is she going to have the Mother Grub dying from intoxication on her shift. She will never hear the end of it from Bronya and Lynera.

The Matron gnarls and lets out a guttural growl from the depths of her abdominal cavities, Daraya pales and releases the, now, definitely dead leech. She genuinely doubts the Mother can die from chewing on a sweepingleech; it’s not like she doesn't eat weird shit when she thinks Daraya isn't looking.

“You know what, do whatever you want. At least you’re eating the vitamins.” Daraya counters, the Mother Grub chirrups happily by the Jade’s disposition and crawls a few feet away to enjoy her newfound meal. Daraya watches the scene uneasily before looking at the nutriment sack and realizing she still has two more blends of vitamins to give her.

Ugh.

(... Could the Matron get sick if she fed her two more leeches?)

“Um,” Daraya draws a sharp breath by the sound of another troll, “that was disgusting.” She looks at the entrance of the cavern and relaxes when she realizes it's just Wanshi in there. “'Sup” Daraya deadpans, crossing her arms, she's pretty sure Wanshi won't tell Bronya why a cleaning leech is missing. But, if she heard Daraya talking to the Mother Grub, well, that’s an entirely different story.

(Not like it’s actually bothering Daraya anyways.)

“Since when have you been snooping?” Daraya questions, because, she’s supposed to be covering Wanshi's turn, which usually means that the younger Jade is going to sneak outside the caverns to do whatever.

Wanshi smiles mischievously, “Since you fought the ferocious Mother Grub.”

Daraya’s ready to die. No, retrospectively, it’s cool. It’s not like she really cares. There’s nothing awkward about it, she has heard how Lanque coos to the newborn wrigglers. So again, there's nothing to be embarrassed about.

(Fuck.)

Wanshi takes one of the blends from the sack and approaches the Mother Grub, who, before Daraya can warn her about how moody the Matron is being, happily chirrups in acknowledgment of the Jade. Daraya rolls her eyes, she's never sneaking grubloaf again. “You know that even if you come and finish your turn, I'm not going to owe you anymore, right?"

Wanshi shrugs while the Mother Grub eats the blends from her hand like it’s fucking ambrosia. “Lynera saw me when I was trying to get out,” She answers and looks at Daraya with a weird expression on her face, “she looked really g, and I thought I should tell you.”

“Um. Okay?”

“She had blood on her skirt. I don't know, it was like when she heard Bronya had a matesprit.”

Oh shit. Did Lynera actually kill someone? She was WAY too volatile and emotional. So fucking unpredictable. She could go from being a strict, stuffy jade to a high-pitched scolding bitch in a wink. But that's it, just bark and threats. The dagger she likes to brandish to the wanderers who step too close to the caverns is just for show. Daraya's never seen her actually kill someone.

“I think it was her own blood,” Wanshi says, extremely warily for her age while patting the Mother Grub’s nose. She hadn't seen how tense Daraya had gotten and good, that was good. Because why would she be tense? There’s a murderous Jade Blood in the caverns living with them, that’s ok. Why would she be worried about that? Most of her interactions with Lynera tend to be on the screaming end, yes. But that’s because Daraya doesn't care about her turns, or overfeeds the wrigglers, or the typical ‘Why don't, you take your duties more seriously Daraya, it’s like you’re not proud of being born a Jade.’

Whatever.

Daraya fidgets with the thick collar around her neck and remains quiet. It’s not her business and honestly? She couldn't care less about Lynera's issues. Daraya's not some pale pillar to lean against, and she has too much on her plate already.

Wanshi stands up and takes the last blend from the sack before giving her A Look, “I'm telling you because I know you vape in the loungeblock after your turns.” She states before giving the Matron the last compound, (seriously, does this Mother Grub have a grudge on Daraya?), “In case she decides to go there.”

Daraya crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow, unamused. “Are you lecturing me?” Wanshi rolls her eyes and places a hand on her hip, mimicking Daraya's demeanor.

(... Is she imitating Daraya?)

“Ugh, I'm not scolding you. It's just that you aren't really discreet when you do that.”

Daraya places both her hands behind her back and leans forward, “You know, you’re starting to sound like Bronya.” She replies, mockingly.

“I’m not!” Wanshi counters and blushes embarrassed, stomping the ground with one foot. Hard. The Mother Grub startles behind her.

Daraya tries really hard to keep a poker-face and takes the empty sack from the floor before raising her shoulders, “I don't know, it sounds like you’re about to clap your hands and recite The Jade Duties by memory.”

Wanshi deflates and crosses her arms, “You’re being mean.” The Matron begins to growl in Daraya's direction, and she flinches. Wanshi notices this and smacks her muzzle, “Stop! Don't speak to her like that, she’s just misunderstood!”

Daraya freezes.

What.

“Where did you hear that?”

Wanshi recoils from her tone and shuffles her feet. Daraya didn't mean to sound so brash, but if there’s one thing that makes her sick is when people treat her like she's some sort of pitiful freak because she's not fussing over things 24/7 or because her normal self scares away most trolls, and that's why she's just misunderstood. She's not misunderstood. She's a nihilist.

What the fuck does being misunderstood even means anyways.

“Um, Lynera?” Wanshi says, slowly. Probably because she doesn't know if that’s going to make Daraya angrier.

(And of course, it was Lynera.)

Daraya frowns and Wanshi's eyebrows knit together, “Are you mad? I'm really sorry. Please don't tell her."

Daraya breathes in and shrugs, “Nah, it’s cool.” She answers and doesn't mean it, though Wanshi still visibly relaxes by her reply and Daraya turns her head in the direction of the corridor, “Are you going to go back now?” Wanshi nods, before kissing the nose of the Matron (Ew.) and walks with Daraya towards the Quarters. It isn’t long before Daraya has to tune her out because she starts babbling about purrbeast roleplaying and whatnot.

Misunderstood, ugh.


	2. Chapter 2

Wake up. Get dressed. Make sure the lusii of the Beta zone are groomed and well-fed after sunset and groom the Matron right during midnight when the dual moons outside the caverns shine the brightest, in the middle of the night sky. Not like Lynera cares about what happens outside the caverns anymore, the world can burn down (NOT Bronya though) for all she cares, so long as she can keep on doing her job unassumingly.

It’s a prosaical routine, tedious; but Lynera’s used to the many tasks she was imposed to follow since she was deemed old enough. When Jades turn four sweeps, it’s demanded they take on the established obligations of their blood caste, and if the manager of the brooding cavern sees them fit, they’re expected to take a younger Jade under their wing by the time they turn seven.

It’s just the way things are. Lynera never knew quite well her mentor, she was flown-off from Alternia when Lynera was a tad younger than Wanshi, and God, that girl was insufferable. Lynera hopes she never sees that self-obsessed bitter narcissist again when she leaves for The Enclave. (‘Focus on your responsibilities or else Lynera. What’s that? Are you talking back? Do you want to be executed by a Stringentmatre for that behavior?’)

Lynera can't help but ponder, is Wanshi going to remember her like she remembers her mentor when--

Lynera's stomach growls, and she shakes her head before rising from the loungeplank. (It would be a pain to bring her cocoon from her respiteblock to the study, and right now, she’ll take nightmares-ish sleep before any form of interaction.) She needs to stop mulling and unfortunately go to the Quarters; there’s so much food she can hoard in her office. Maybe if she’s stealthy enough, she can avoid everyone? It's worked so far; it’s been three days since the whole... __In__ _ _cident,__  and Bronya won’t stop sending Lynera worried messages.

‘-no! nothings wrong! lol im just REALLY busy and TIRED and i feel more at ease in my office!!’, ‘-it’s alright you dont need to come !! REALLY !! im fine!’

(The last one had hurt Lynera the most, she wants to see Bronya SO bad, but she feels awful with herself... For some reason. Besides, Lynera's pretty sure she's going to collapse in shame if she sees Bronya's worried face.)

Lynera reluctantly gets dressed and squeezes her eyes shut; there’s no point delaying the inevitable. (Is she being way too dramatic over the prospect of setting foot inside the Quarters? She doesn't think so, really.) She places on her glasses before gloomily walking up the stairs and closing the door on her way out.

***

Although the vastness of the cavern dwarfs the size of the Jade Quarters, the construction is considerably large and spacious for just five Jades. With large arches on the exterior and tall ceilings on most blocks, it resembles a miniature hospitable basilica. (The style’s reminiscent of large clown churches; both jade and purple architecture have many things in common, but, for obvious reasons, Lynera’s more fond of the former.)

It always gives Lynera the feeling of having once been a glorious construction, probably housing dozens of Jades, but fated to the obliteration of time, like an unkept historic gem who has resigned itself to the disregard of its temporary residents and has no other alternative but fall to pieces.

Thankfully, it was erected next to the solid wall of the cave for premeditated support, like it’s constructors knew the building had to stand upright for millennia. So, hopefully, it’s going to be another hundred perigees before it collapses onto unassuming Jades.

The tallest needle overlooks the rest of the mostly void terrain of the cavern save for the many holes in the walls branching to other zones and the dazzling fountain in the middle*.

The building itself is mostly made of black colored bricks, and a fluorescent aquamarine fungi’s starting to take over most of its outer wall. (They need to do something about that.) There are a vast number of jade stained windows, which is quite incongruous since the building is inside a cave, but Lynera guesses a hive without windows would be quite ugly and oppressive for others. (Her study doesn’t have windows, so.)

Also, like always, the door to the Jade Quarters is open. Lynera sighs before setting foot inside the spacious hall and closing it. One of these days a psychotic troll is going to break into their hive and wreak havoc she swears.

The ominous portraits of adult Jade Bloods cover the walls of the entrance hall. Lynera looks around the block furtively before walking towards the kitchen, through akin looking hallways with wooden floors that creak eerily whenever she wakes up in the hot of day for water. The bedrooms are on the second floor, so she doesn’t need to worry about coming across anyone, besides it’s quite early.

Lynera enters the kitchen, and before she can think better of it and turn around, she sees a troll sitting on a countertop.

Lanque.

He raises his mug in acknowledgment, “Good night Lynera,” He manages to say before yawing. His hair is a mess, and he looks like he just woke up. He probably did. Lynera should be at least courteous and greet him back, but she can’t, because the noose of his presence around her throat doesn’t allow her to get words out. She shouldn’t feel like this. Lynera’s the second in command after Bronya; she should be the one intimidating trolls not left speechless by the people she works with.

She rubs her arm consciously and manages to mumble out a greeting before opening a cupboard and rummaging for tea. She can't just turn around and pretend she forgot something, that would be worse.

The kitchen’s spacious, with a soaring ceiling from which an antique chandelier hangs. The marble cupboards are polished clean since this is one of the most used blocks and Bronya likes to keep it in pristine condition. There’s an aisle in the middle from where Lanque is perched, sipping his coffee and trying to wake himself up.

Lynera tries to pretend like setting up water for the teapot is a task that requires all her attention, but that doesn't seem to deter Lanque from trying to make small talk with her. “It’s been a while since the last time I saw you,” he mentions without any hint of venom in his voice, and Lynera is starting to wonder if he even remembers the whole party incident, “have you been up to anything interesting?” He asks, nursing his coffee.

God, what does she say? ‘I was busy hiding from you and everyone else’ isn’t the best starter for conversations. Lynera wants tea, and nothing else; maybe she can buy the rest of her amenities in the city? That sounds like a good idea. That sounds like an excellent idea, actually. Then, she can ignore everyone until the day she’s flown-off Alternia, and pay her respects to her blood caste by tending unhatched Matriorbs until the day she dies.

(Lynera’s REALLY not overreacting is she?)

“Oh, You know! I was just busy with paperwork- signing grubs!” She lies and thankfully her voice doesn’t waver. God, that small accomplishment feels like a feat after everything that has happened. She makes the mistake of looking back at Lanque, and he’s staring at her with a confused aura behind his eyes as if he doesn’t understand that Lynera’s this fidgety because of his fault.

(She’s- She’s being unfair. Lanque shouldn’t have opened the drawer of nasty rumors, but said drawer wouldn’t have existed in the first place if Lynera had just kept her mouth shut about his promiscuous tendencies.)

“Are you okay?” He inquires, genuinely worried, and GOD, does he need to make everything SO HARD, “Did something happen?” Lynera shakes her head and takes a teabag from the box, avoiding his curious eyes, “Nothing happened, why would you think that? I'm perfectly fine, really!” She counters before giving him one of her most convincing looks.

Lanque stares unconvinced for a long moment before shrugging, labeling Lynera’s attitude as her typical eccentric self. He savors the last of his coffee before sudden realization washes over his face.

“Wait, are you still mad for what I said at the party?” He asks wide-eyed, and Lynera cusses internally because of course, he had to remember. They just couldn’t have a peaceful and silent breakfast.

“WHAT? No! That’s water under the bridge!” She retaliates, fangs digging on her lower lip. Her façade’s wavering like the legs of a newborn deer-- Does it usually take this long for the teapot to whistle?

“Alright,” Lanque replies suspiciously, narrowing his eyes slightly, “because you do know you don’t have the right to be angry when people call you out on your shit, right?”

Lynera finally breaks and crosses her arms, all pretense of a kosher breakfast left behind, “I just- I NEVER said I was disgusted by your behavior! I don't think it’s proper for a Jade to--”

“It’s not proper to what, have fun outside the caverns? Should I wear a chastity belt like yours until the day I die? I wonder how that has worked out for you so far.”

The teapot whistles behind Lynera.

“I don't- Whatever I do with myself! Is NONE of your concern!”

“Quite hypocritical for you to say that,” he states like they’re just having a regular conversation, “but I think that you should stop hiding inside that study of yours like a kicked puppy and grow a pair.” Lanque stands up and walks towards the sink while Lynera gapes at him like a stranded violet grub on the ground.

Lynera HATES him- NO. That’s the wrong term. Hating would involve a whole lot of activities Lynera’s not comfortable thinking about, she can’t stand him and his suave appearance. Just look at him; he seems so PROUD of himself. Jades are supposed to be proper and docile, that’s why they’re born, to serve, be observed and sanctified by the rest of the castes, while a few lucky ones are chosen to spend the rest of their lives in The Enclave.

It’s an honorable life.

So- So she won't have this- Lanque. She won't have Lanque stepping over everything she believes in like it’s some opinion to make fun of, no. He has the right to behave in whichever way he pleases, Lynera will tolerate that, but she has the right to hold whatever opinion she wants about him- look at that grin, this is not fair--

“Well?” He questions with a smug smile, “Are you going to gape at me for the rest of the night or are you going to run away again--”

“SHUT UP Lanque!” Lynera snarls, curling her lips viciously. The growl escapes her throat and maybe Lynera’s overreacting, but she doesn’t care about Lanque or the screaming tea behind her any more than she cares about the rest of Alternia catching on fire, which translates to Very Fucking Little.

Lanque blinks slowly, unyielding but surprised. He doesn't lose his stance and steps forward, inside Lynera’s personal space, “Don't think for a second,” he whispers, with the bare hint of a threat buried deep between his words, licking his fangs “that I'm going to be deterred by your outbursts, Lynera.”

Lynera’s fingers are trembling with fury, and she won't be accountable for her actions if Lanque decides to take one more step in her direction. Lanque holds Lynera's fierce look for a long, tense moment before rolling his eyes and stepping back.

“I don't give a shit about what you do, or don't do, Lynera, but with an attitude like that you’re going to get in trouble one of these days.”

Lanque walks away from the kitchen with all the composure of a panther, not giving Lynera a second glance. Lynera clenches her jaw and- and one of these nights she’s going to give him a piece of her mind; but she needs to CALM DOWN, the corners of her vision are dark orange which is never good- Tea, yes. She needs tea. Lynera manages to take a cup from the board despite her unsheathed claws getting in the way and serves the liquid, drinking in shaking hands.

She burns her tongue.

“FUCK!” The porcelain of the teacup shatters like her composure in a myriad of tiny pieces against the wall of the kitchen, leaving a dark, brown stain against the century-old surface.

Lynera shrills behind her hands in a frequency capable of breaking glass (thank the MATRONS that DOESN’T happens) before taking a kitchen linen and scrubbing the dark blotch like it’s the culprit of all her problems. Stupid leaf-water. God, she can feel her pulse in her bedhorns and WHY WON'T THE STAIN COME OUT--

“Lynera, is that you?”

Oh. Oh no.

Lynera whips her head in the direction of the voice, and her rage evaporates as fast as water in the desert.

(Bronya.)

“Oh, hi!” Lynera croaks out, hiding the linen behind her back.

Bronya’s head is peeking from the door like a deer testing dangerous waters, and she’s staring at Lynera with equals mix of confusion and concern. When Bronya sees the countless shards of pieces of porcelain on the floor, her worry grows, and she steps inside the kitchen. (Lynera’s feeling somewhat ridiculous, because she’s trying to pretend nothing’s wrong when there’s a big and incriminating dark stain beside her head.)

“I heard something shattering, is everything right? Did you hurt yourself?” Bronya asks, placing the stack of papers she’s carrying in the aisle, and Lynera can’t do anything but stare at the frown between Bronya’s eyebrows with anxiety and wish the ground would swallow her whole. Lynera can have Lanque annoyed at her, and she can have her ex-alien-friend--

(Alien? God what is Lynera even making up now, aliens only exist in faraway systems to be conquered by the Imperial Fleet.)

The point is, she’d rather spend the rest of her life as a Servicechattel under a tyrant Highblood than have Bronya mad at her. She can’t have that. She can't live with that.

“Yes- I burned myself and- well--”

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

“Dear, that’s no reason to throw a cup. You know we are supposed to keep the silverware in prime condition for the next generation.” Bronya states, crossing her arms and giving Lynera an exasperated look. Lynera knows that, and she wants to say so, but she doesn't want to make Bronya angrier; Lynera also knows that Bronya won't get mad by something as silly as that but--

Bronya takes Lynera’s silence as a cue to step closer and takes the linen from her hands before Lynera can have an aneurysm, “You look awfully pale,” Bronya says, placing one hand over Lynera’s shoulder and Lynera, thank God, doesn’t wince, “do you need a glass of water?”

“No! No, don’t worry. I’m perfectly fine!” Lynera stammers and Bronya nods warily, before looking at the stain. “So it’s just the burn,” Bronya speaks, unconvinced.

“Yes.”

“Nothing else?” Bronya probes Lynera, and her hand travels unconsciously down Lynera’s arm, rubbing soothing circles over the tense muscle.

Lynera shuffles her feet anxiously and shakes her head, Bronya smiles sadly before speaking in a softer tone, “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Bronya says comfortingly, and Lynera's pale reflex forces her to relax instantly when Bronya's thumb brushes against the tense skin of her neck. God, it’s so, SO pale and Lynera feels like crying because it’s just that, pallid crimson. Silly conciliatory red. She doesn’t want this, but like hell is she not going to accept it if it’s everything she’ll ever get.

Lynera bows her head defeated. She can’t in good conscience tell Bronya anything about what’s eating the back of her mind, and Bronya notices her vitreous eyes, cooing softly before hugging her; and it’s happening, they’re in touch train, and the collector is going to kick Lynera out because she doesn't know what to do with her limp arms.

(Is it creepy to say that Bronya smells good? Because she does. God, it’s definitely creepy- Lynera’s so weird. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry--)

“I respect your privacy, but it’s just hard when you disappear for several days to that office of yours.” Lynera slumps against Bronya’s shoulder and starts trembling when Bronya rubs her back, and she doesn’t deserve Bronya, this is so pallid, Lynera's going to combust in shame if Bronya touches her face.

After an embarrassingly long moment, Lynera releases the back of Bronya’s shirt and sniffs before looking at the door, “The Alpha Matron- It’s my shift now, I need to go look after her.” Lynera stammers, and way to go with a non-sequitur for this meeting with Bronya.

Bronya studies her for a moment (why is her face so close, someone, help Lynera) and blushes before taking a step back and clearing her throat, clearly embarrassed by her actions. “You know what?” Bronya tries to brighten up clapping her hands, “You deserve a break before you strain yourself! Why don't you assign the new batch from the Beta zone and take the rest of the night off?”

Bronya takes the papers from the table, and Lynera stares at her, somewhat uneasy by skipping her shift, “But--”

“Shoosh, not buts,” Bronya smiles, handing Lynera the stack of paperwork and ushering her out of the kitchen, “and, one: you’ll promise me you’ll really relax and two: you’ll do them in the lounge block. No locking yourself in your office or block!”

“Okay! Okay- but, the stain?” Lynera asks helpless, in the door of the kitchen, staring at the broken porcelain on the floor.

“I’ll take care of that we all have bad days. Now off you go!” Bronya states without room for argument and pats her back.

Lynera’s heart flutters and she finally resigns herself to her fate, giving Bronya a strained but thankful smile before walking away. God, she doesn’t deserve Bronya, she’s so understanding and kind and lovely and--

Focus Lynera.

She needs to ‘relax’ and give a sign to around two hundred newborn Lowblood grubs. Lynera can do that, that’s easy, probably one of the simplest jobs in the caverns. Rust, bronze, yellow and olive, 96 shades, assign each grub depending on the level of their chroma purity*. She would be more comfortable doing the task locked in her block, or office but Bronya forbade it so.

The lounge block it is.

***

Daraya hums and places both her feet on the coffee table, leaning back against the ugly black chesterfield sofa. There’s nobody else in the library (AKA their lounge block, since this fucking ancient hive doesn’t have a standard lounge block with a regular TV) and she lets her eyes roam over the dull and dusty corridors filled with yellow-paged chalky books.

The cranny she’s in is safe from any onlookers who happen to walk past the door of the library on their way outside the Quarters. Daraya’s kind of testing her luck, downing a bottle of Troll Irish Cream here, but nobody is going to disturb her for a while; Wanshi’s probably still asleep, she just heard Lanque walk the main stairs up to his block, and Bronya is busy assigning newborn wrigglers their symbol or whatever.

Daraya doesn’t really have that much of a sweet tooth for alcohol, but the bottle was getting dusty inside her block, and her mind wouldn’t stop churning around weird What Ifs involving the future and such. Besides, this is her hive. If being a Jade means she’s unlucky enough to have to share a hive with four other trolls, like hell if she’s not going to do whatever she wishes in this relic of a building. Daraya opens the bottle and swirls the sugary drink around before washing down a mouthful.

Man, this is nice. Really nice. Daraya still can’t shut up the part of her mind that’s nagging her to stop, since it’s only dusk and she still has the whole night ahead of her. But Daraya also knows that if she sobers up she’s going to start thinking about her blood color again and she doesn't--

“Daraya?” Oh, damn. That’s Lynera isn’t it? Well shit, time to pack the whole thing up and fly the fuck away from here. Daraya raises a hand in a greeting, laidback motion, and Lynera wrinkles her nose when the smell of alcohol hits her. Lynera eyes the door of the library exasperated, ultimately shaking her head and sitting on the chesterfield parallel from Daraya, ignoring her.

Daraya looks at Lynera confused. That’s new, oh damn, is she that tipsy already? She’s not going to poke the cholerbear since Lynera seems busy making annotations on some papers, but she’s surprised she isn't having one of her fits.

It’s been over a week since the last time Daraya saw Lynera, which isn't really that surprising, with how big the Quarters are and the condescending way Lynera usually avoids everyone.

“It’s been long,” Daraya states, testing out the waters. Lynera hmms, annoyed but doesn’t raise her eyes from the papers. “Yes, I’ve been busy,” she scribbles something and side-eyes Daraya’s black, ankle boots sorely, “take your shoes off the table, please.” Daraya rolls her eyes but does so, placing them over the arm of the hideous chesterfield, much to Lynera’s chagrin.

Daraya pulls out her palmhusk and scrolls through old Chittr conversations, “Bronya said the other day she wanted to see you.” Oh, that does it. Daraya sees from the corner of her eye Lynera tensing slightly and damn, something must have happened between them.

“Yes! I know. I JUST talked to her.”

Daraya doesn't really care about who Lynera talks or stops talking to, but it’s not like she has anything better to do, and after another mouthful of liquor beneath Lynera’s disapproving presence, poking the cholerbear is starting to seem like not that bad of an idea.

“I heard you fell.”

“Mmmh.”

“I also heard,” Daraya adds turning off her palmhusk and raising herself on her elbows, remembering her conversation with Wanshi the other day, “that I'm a misunderstood brat.”

Lynera drops her pen and bows her head, pressing her face between her palms. Shit, Daraya wasn't expecting this reaction. She wanted to irritate Lynera not make her-- This is awkward. This is really awkward. Daraya may be reaching cloud 7, but she can tell when someone is-- Fuck no, stop making that sound. Daraya doesn't like whatever the fuck this is.

“Um,” Daraya bites her lip and sits up, surprisingly alert. Lynera’s covering her mouth, and her eyes look glassy, she seems like she’s about to have a breakdown. Daraya’s never seen her do that face, which makes her feel all kinds of uncomfortable. Is Lynera going to bite her fingers off if Daraya touches her arm? (What the fuck, she’s Lynera, Daraya’s not going to comfort her, even if she’s making that distressing sound and--

Before Daraya can flee the block, Lynera takes a shaky breath and stares down with unfocused eyes, “Can we NOT talk about this right now?”

Daraya nods dazed and leans awkwardly against the cold sofa, “Yeah ok, cool. I get it.” Daraya doesn’t get it. She’s mad at Lynera, but she can’t just chow down on someone who looks so miserable. Ugh. This is definitely the ethanol talking, she should have downed the bottle in her block.

Lynera seems to regain some of her composure because she fixes Daraya with a condescending look, “Do you really?” And here we go again with the fucking arrogant attitude.

“No, I don’t think I’ll ever will. What did you do now, cull someone?”

Lynera places a hand against her chest offended and looks like someone just poured a whole gallon of cold water over her head. Suspicious.

“What!? Of course NOT! Where did you even get that?”

Daraya shrugs before making a vague gesture with her hand, “You always have this murderous fog around you, besides you’re kind of volatile--”

“I don't KNOW what you’re talking about!!” Daraya looks at Lynera annoyed for the interruption and notices her unsheathed claws. Maybe it’s the liquor nulling her fight or flight instincts but Daraya points in the direction of Lynera’s hands like they are the conspicuous evidence of their argument.

“See, that’s what I mean, like, I’ve known you since forever, and you’re ready to tear my throat out.” Daraya ignores the thrill of primal fear that runs up her spine, and Lynera looks at her hands before guiltily fisting her skirt, “I haven't culled anybody,” Lynera mumbles resentfully, like denying a murderous allegation is a normal thing to say, with that weird expression, again.

“Dude, you need to find someone to vent, but like, if you’re planning to gore someone I don't mind listening,” Daraya says, tentatively, not because she cares about what the fuck is going on in Lynera’s life but because she’s somewhat curious about what's gotten her in this mood, "just this once."

“FIRST stop suggesting I culled anybody,” Lynera counters, imitating Bronya’s way of talking “and second I already talked about it with Bronya,” Lynera states, weirded out by Daraya’s suggestion. Oh, well, rude. But never be said Daraya didn't fucking try.

“But it’s nice of you to offer,” Lynera mumbles after a moment, looking at her sheathed claws. This is getting weird. Daraya makes a vague gesture towards the liquor bottle and looks inquiringly at Lynera, whose eyes widen like yellow lanterns. “I REALLY shouldn't and you!--” Lynera stops abruptly and looks at the papers guiltily, like she’s trying her hardest to not get angry before rubbing the bridge of her nose. Daraya studies her from behind her bangs before speaking, “I __shouldn't__ , but it’s not like the drones are going to bust down that door,” Lynera looks at the door rapidly before biting her lip, “besides, it’s a natural tranquilizer.” Daraya adds slyly, studying Lynera’s anxious demeanor.

“No! It’s not!” Lynera counters skeptically

“Well, Miss Prude, is not like you’d know.”

Lynera looks back at the door and stares at Daraya with knitted eyebrows for a long moment, “But what if someone enters?” She hisses worriedly, and Daraya leans forward surprised. What the fuck? Is Lynera really considering it? “I mean,” Daraya speaks trying to sound unamused, “it’s not like we’re plotting to overthrow the Empress you know.”

“DARAYA you can’t say things like that!”

“Look, if you’re going to be a stuck up downer about it forget it,” Daraya baits deftly and goes to stand up and before her trap can crumble because maybe she’s already had too much Lynera bites and grabs her wrist from over the table. “WAIT! I- Maybe I want to try.” She mutters, trailing off, releasing Daraya’s wrist like she just got burnt.

Holy shit.

“For real?”

“Maybe I need to- I don't know.” Oh, she’s really thinking about it, this is gold, maybe not as funny as that one time Daraya stumbled onto Wanshi and Lanque roleplaying but close enough. Lynera know-it-all Skalbi is going to break __a__ rule, and Daraya is here to witness it. Daraya sheds an allegorical tear and crashes on the opposite side of the horrid chesterfield (seriously these sofas are so ugly) before Lynera can backtrack.

“This is new,” Daraya says, raising an eyebrow and trying her hardest not to grin before handing Lynera the bottle, who takes it as if it’s some sort illegal substance. (Which in fact is, inside the brooding caverns, but who cares.)

She gets A Look from Lynera for her comment and Daraya places her hands on her lap before leaning back against the arm of the sofa and shutting her mouth, else she frightens the excentric troll away. Lynera stares at the mouth of the bottle before closing her eyes and drinking. She grimaces when the flavor hits her taste buds but gulps it down. God, she’s so dramatic, it doesn’t even have that much alcohol. (Which makes Daraya wonder about the face Lynera would make if she ever tasted vodka.)

“So?” Daraya asks, unable to hide the amusement from her voice.

“It’s cloying,” Lynera mutters, before looking at the label of the bottle and licking the excess from her lips, “and surprisingly sapid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Where Jades sent to the Enclave are expected to rehatch into Vestal Sisters and tend to unhatched Matriorb. It's kind of an honorary baptism for being accepted inside The Enclave. I'll get more into it later on.
> 
> *I don't think blood color changes drastically from caste to caste. I headcanon it more like a gradual change passing through all the hues, with the zodiac signs being the purest of their chroma. Say, for example, Vriska's sign is True Scorpio, so she’s the purest of Cerulean Bloods, since she's one step away from Indigo, while Scorittarius would be at the end, with the closest shade to Teal out of all Cerulean. (Like the Extended Zodiac order but all signs making a long line.)


	3. Chapter 3

If Lynera had to write a list of things she SHOULDN’T be doing right now, drinking with Daraya would be at the top of the list. It would probably be the only thing inscribed. In bold. Actually, no. Furtively ogling Daraya’s arm would be just below. (Or above?) The order doesn’t matter, but it would be a list of those two things. Underlined. Several times.

That’s something that the sober Lynera would probably do; she’d also sneer disdainfully at the current Lynera’s thoughts. However, the present Lynera is against the arm of the black chesterfield, legs tucked against her chest and FOCUSED on neatly balancing the troll Irish cream between her knees. Lynera's looking at the liquid swirl inside the bottle. Yes, that’s what the current Lynera is doing. She’s not distracted with anything else. What is there to be distracted? No ogling is happening, dear God, the distraught.

See, now that Lynera’s following this train of thought, the sober Lynera would also be freaking out at the prospect of lending Bronya (swoon) cover her shift with the Alpha Mothergrub. Although technically, Lynera isn’t ‘skipping’ anything, she’s ‘relaxing,’ like Bronya advised her to. Lynera just finished assigning all the newborn wrigglers, and she has the night off. Job done. Daraya (surprise) even helped her sort some grubs when Lynera told her she was wont to continue drinking unless she finished the task.

Lynera’s pretty sure this is what most teenagers her age usually do. She’s definitely not going to regret anything later. That’s a thing that’s not going to happen. She's just a somewhat intoxicated, but highly responsible- mature Jade, consorting with another fellow Jade. Increasing the morale with a co-worker so they both can perform better in their obligations--

What the- What is her mind ranting about.

Daraya’s looking at something in her palmhusk, with bangs hiding her features. Which is convenient; that way she can't track Lynera’s eyes. She's leaned forward, and that makes her bicep flex, which consequently makes Lynera’s stomach do weird flips. Which is strange because Lynera’s never considered Daraya in any other way except SPORADIC platonic black pangs when Daraya’s being awfully stubborn and relentlessly tests Lynera's patience, and that’s odd because the only troll Lynera’s usually hectic fantasizing about is Bronya and--

And now she’s sad.

She sips from the bottle, maybe more than she should, because the liquid rest heavy on her tongue and burns, she welcomes the pain.

"Never have I ever pailed outdoors."

Lynera chokes on the drink and coughs; her chest is burning like that one time some ignorant set the Violet section on fire. She also tries and fails miserably in not spraying her part of the couch with alcohol, which is a complicated task; because the coughing. Just. Won't. Stop.

Daraya raises an eyebrow, "Alright, that was disappointing but not surprising." She states, but she snatches the bottle from between Lynera’s hands and __drinks__.

And.

"Wait! You did WHAT outdoors!?" Lynera hisses, and she’s pretty sure her face is an utter muddle of disbelief and confusion

“Dude I already said what,” Daraya frowns, while Lynera tries to regain some dignity by wiping her mouth. “Wait,” Daraya murmurs after a moment, raising her eyebrows, “don't tell me you’ve never played never have I ever.”

“No? But if it's about making bold statements, I don't see the appeal of it.”

Daraya rubs the bridge of her nose and looks away, trying her best to keep her composure and not smile, Lynera doesn’t know if she appreciates the gesture or if she wants to punch her in the- the chest.

“You’re going to be sent off-planet in less than a sweep, and you’ve never played never have I ever?”

Lynera’s eyebrows crease, and she narrows her eyes before snapping, “Well, so are you and yet I don't see you excelling in the caverns.”

So, they’re back again in square one, with sour moods and snarky comebacks. Daraya snarls and slumps backward, against the opposite arm, “UGH, I was just trying to find something to do, you don't have to be a bitch about it.”

Lynera’s not a bitch. She just- Maybe she shouldn't have said that to Daraya NOW of all times but, it’s the truth! Lynera fidgets consciously before biting her lip. Maybe she should stitch her mouth shut one of these days. Is she being dramatic? She’s probably being dramatic but- Daraya provoked her on this one. Lynera tries to take the bottle from between her hands, but Daraya doesn't let her, pursing her lips before she takes a swig and glares at Lynera from behind her bangs.

“Hypothetically,” Lynera reluctantly says, clenching her jaw. Daraya side-eyes her before resting her cheek against her knuckles, and Lynera has to anchor her eyes on Daraya’s face. (Is her eyeliner always this sharp?) “What does the game entail?”

Daraya sighs exaggeratedly and turns on her palmhusk, scooting closer, “SO, usually you drink when you’ve done the thing,” she says, applying emphasis around 'the thing', “though coming up with stuff you’ve done is sort of hard, so it’s easier to search for it online.”

Daraya shows Lynera her palmhusk, and maybe Lynera leans more closer than she should, but that’s because she can’t read well without her glasses. (When did she take them off?) Daraya scrolls through the page, which is unsurprisingly filled by... Salacious statements one should drink to or pass.

Wait.

“Daraya you’ve pailed OUTDOORS?” Lynera half-whispers, half-hisses scandalized. Daraya raises an eyebrow at Lynera’s reaction, “The game is drink or pass, not drink and explain.”

Still. Pailing! Outside? Like some kind of deviant? God, if only Bronya knew.

No no no no no.

No.

And now Lynera is sad and conflicted.

She takes the bottle from Daraya’s hands, and this time she allows her to. Lynera drinks miserably and glares at Daraya when she places her boots on the table because she knows that she shouldn't be doing that. Daraya rolls her eyes before shaking her palmhusk.

“Well?”

Sober Lynera screams at her that she should unquestionably say no, because what’s this kind of preposterous behavior. However, Lynera’s taking refuge in the fact that she’s drunk, and that’s unfair because she’s not that intoxicated if she can still make this sort of reasoning.

Daraya slumps backward by the lack of an answer and keeps scrolling, placing her feet over Lynera’s lap, testing her, which is better than the table, so Lynera allows it. Yes, because it’s not the table. Lynera knows she’d probably snap at Daraya any other moment in time, but- She sort of glares at the back of Daraya’s palmhusk, balancing the bottle over her legs, which Lynera’s never noticed before, but, they’re also somewhat toned--

“Alright,” Lynera ultimately says, ignoring the weird flips of her stomach.

“You know,” Daraya muses before crossing one leg over the other, “you’re not as boring as I thought you were.”

“I'm not ‘boring’ Daraya. I just have too many responsibilities to look after.” Lynera sniffs, trying to sound dignified. She drinks again and oh, this one hit her hard, she should- She should stop, but the sweet aftertaste is starting to become a pleasant buzz against her tongue.

Daraya moves her palmhusk and looks at her, “So does Lanque. AND Bronya, which is kinda hypocritical for her because more often than not she’s having flings and she’s always saying--”

Lynera’s face must have betrayed her because Daraya trails off and Lynera’s trying her hardest to keep herself from spilling the bottle all over Daraya. She doesn’t want to think about them now. Lynera specifically doesn't want to think about Bronya, because it’s not fair. Her situation is not fair, and she deserves someone better and--

And Lynera’s not stupid. She does know she’s not that someone. She’s the no-friend, backstabbing bitch most boring troll of all of Alternia, and she just wants to go to her block and hide there for the rest of the night and- Wow, would you look at that, the stuff she’s been drinking must also be a depressant because she can feel her eyes burning.

“Uh,” Daraya mutters and sits up, rubbing her arm embarrassed, “this is awkward.”

It INDEED is.

“You’re right, you know,” Lynera eventually says, laughing sourly to herself, “I’ve never played this dumb game, or done anything ‘exciting’ with anybody because I’ve been so focused on what my life is going to be about that when I'm finally flown-off I’ll just look after unhatched Matriorbs until the day I DIE.”

“And the thing is, that I'm content with that outcome!" Lynera adds bitterly, "I can't even play this stupid game properly because I’ve never done half the things a troll my age should have.”

Lynera places her face against her forearms and groans. She feels Daraya clinically patting her back, and this is starting to reach all levels of inappropriate.

“Dude, I'm sure that there’s still time for you to do exciting shit,” Lynera doesn’t answer, and Daraya should REALLY have drunk alone in her block, “I mean if it makes you feel better about yourself--”

“What,” Lynera mutters, looking intently at the bottle.

“Well, you __know__ ,” Daraya tentatively reaches for the liquor between Lynera’s hand, she doesn't want to give the bottle back, because it’s helping her numb her thoughts, but she’s also starting to feel a nauseating hum at the back of her head. “I didn't mean it like that when I said you were such a bitch, like yeah, sometimes, but we’re all used to it.” Lynera glares daggers at her through her fingers and suppresses a growl because if Daraya is trying to lift her spirits, she’s doing a terrible job about it. Daraya doesn't seem to notice this, or doesn't seem to care, because she continues talking, “but like, if it makes you feel better, maybe a really, REALLY, long time ago I had a weird black-ish thing for you?”

Here comes again the subject about Lynera having black feelings for Daraya, God she doesn't want to think about this- Now.

Wait.

“WHAT.”

Daraya's hand freezes against her shoulder, “Yeah,” she tries to brush it off by acting like it's not that much of a big deal, “it was kind of childish, in an ‘I'm going to shut her up one of these days,’ sort of way.”

Lynera’s really dizzy mind concludes that, yes, Daraya can be really immature, so it’s understandable, with how easy she manages to get on Lynera’s nerves with her ‘today I can't be bothered to care about my blood caste duties nor do I know how to take a bath without hoarding all the warm water’. God, it’s even a trope in troll literature, how clashing personalities eventually lead to unrequited/unwanted black feelings.

Still.

“And- you don't anymore?”

“NO!” Daraya snaps quickly, and Lynera winces, “I mean like, I don't think about you in that sort of way I guess? It’s stupid.”

“Well, it’s not stupid to me.”

“Look JUST,” Daraya rubs her face with her hands and groans, “like I sort of still want to shut you up but not in a black-ish way? And what would be left is not-black, and that’s super weird?”

“OH. Yes.” Lynera blurts out, because, INDEED, it’s fucking weird. Still, her face flares up, and she can't help but look away consciously.

“Yes, oh,” Daraya repeats stiffly.

“I don't- know what to say,” Lynera stammers after an awkwardly long pause, and she honestly doesn’t know how to answer, because she’s never- Daraya’s not coming clean, thank God, that’s OBVIOUS. Lynera’s pretty sure of that. Daraya probably doesn’t even know why she’s telling her this. She’s tight-lipped, staring at Lynera from behind her bangs with a weird expression, but Lynera can still see the muted green specks on her cheeks. Which is new, because she's used to either ‘Grumpy Daraya’ or ‘Ugh, just leave me alone Daraya.’ So this could be, maybe, a pleasant change?

“Don't say anything. It was stupid. Just forget it.”

“When you say shut up you mean as in like--”

“Oh my GOD. Why are you still talking? I said forget it.”

Lynera’s eyebrows crease because her clouded brain can't believe what Daraya is implying. “As in like kissing me?” Daraya groans LOUDLY and grounds her face between her hands, like a troll hiding from the sun.

“Stoooooop--”

“Do you still want to?”

As soon as the words leave Lynera's lips, Daraya freezes and stops grumbling, and that action makes Lynera feel remarkably self-conscious, so she recoils back, away from Daraya. It may be the high road, but it feels like the most reasoned and adult thing to do right now.

“Do you want me to?” Daraya charges and Lynera feels like someone just tied a rope around her neck, she can’t even bring herself to look at Daraya who is eyeing Lynera like a cat would a mouse. The question catches Lynera off-guard, and her throat feels extremely parched despite everything she's drunk so far, so she tucks some hair behind a pointed ear before furtively looking at Daraya and glancing away.

Daraya inches closer, while Lynera stares at her actions jittery. “That is,” Lynera stammers and Daraya places a hand over her knee and- Oh. Her eyeliner is indeed on point, “To say, u-um,” Daraya’s other hand moves until it's against Lynera’s jaw, and the difference between her flaring face and the warmness of Daraya’s skin is shaking, Lynera’s throat tricks her by keening.

Daraya’s lips brush over hers, and her fangs are a striking cold against her lips. Lynera’s feeling a sort of vulnerability she’s not sure she’s comfortable with, and it's not because Lynera doesn't want to kiss Daraya, what is she supposed to do? Is she supposed to mirror Daraya? After an embarrassingly long moment of being frozen, Lynera eventually complies with wavering determination, securing her hands on Daraya’s shoulders, hanging onto them like a harbor in a storm for dear life.

It’s messy and breathless, and Daraya’s bangs are brushing against Lynera’s face, distractingly. There are no instructions to follow, except model what she’s doing, and then Daraya’s pushing her tongue against Lynera’s lips and Dear Blessed Mothergrub, Lynera is going to combust in shame any moment now.

Daraya shivers when Lynera’s claws brush against her neck, this is Daraya she’s kissing. Daraya Jonjet. The other troll Lynera’s ever done something like this with, (and Lynera would rather die before admitting this is her second time) if that disappointingly pallid time Bronya kissed her when they were barely six to know what it felt like- Lynera shouldn't- She shouldn't be thinking about that now. Lynera’s NOT going to think about that now. Because this is clearly not conciliatory- But it’s Daraya- But it feels nice- God.

She feels Daraya’s pulse racing against her palm, and she locks all meandering thoughts in a closet before reciprocating open-mouthed. She feels Daraya trying to nudge her legs apart, until she realizes Lynera is wearing an ankle-length skirt and ultimately ends up pressing herself mortified against her chest.

Her arms eventually lose tension against Daraya’s shoulders and when she finally breaks for air, she gapes at Daraya and starts to feel shame crawling up her neck. A film of chartreuse coats Daraya's cheeks, her hands flat against Lynera’s chest.

Lynera feels UNCOMFORTABLY exposed and would absolutely love to CLOSE her legs because her skirt is going to break apart at the seams any moment now. (She’s also trying really hard to ignore the pool of heat in her lower stomach.) But there's another Jade stiffly and intently staring down at her.

(Lynera doesn't mind it that much? Maybe? Is she being weird again?)

“Uh...” Daraya looks conflicted and embarrassed up close, and those aren't emotions Lynera is used to seeing in her can't-seem-to-care-about-the-world demeanor, so she doesn't know how to react and instead gapes at her like a wriggler finding a lusus for the first time.

“Oh my god. I can't believe I just did that,” Daraya finally speaks and presses her face against her palms, but makes no attempt to move from the spot she’s currently in, which is to say between Lynera’s legs and--

And Lynera really hopes NOBODY comes in now.

“It was- yeah-,” Lynera stammers for lack of a better phrasing and tucks her chin against her neck. Her tongue feels useless in her mouth, and the buzz of inebriation behind her eyelids has done nothing but intensify by the rush of pheromones.

She feels Daraya snort before rolling her eyes, “'Yeah?' Dude, it’s not like you did anything besides fidget on the receiving end you know.”

Lynera scoffs, indignant. She knows countless novels that shouldn't be by any means ALLOWED in the caverns thank you very much, so she’s pretty sure that she’s at the very least somewhat competent when it comes to--

Daraya’s staring at her with an are-you-fucking-kidding-me expression, “Man, I knew you were kinda stuck up, but I would have never guessed you were such a dork.”

And that makes Lynera a stammering mess again, Daraya’s amused face does nothing to quell her nervousness, and Lynera doesn't know how to feel about this whole slip because even if that kiss was rounding the ‘not-back’ zone, the bickering is and Lynera’s so confused right now but--

But Daraya looks __breathtaking__ up close.

THAT’S another thing altogether because this is probably the most contact Lynera’s had with another troll in sweeps and it’s starting to get over her head. Daraya fidgets apprehensively with the collar of her vest, and if she’s about to ask Lynera anything else, she’s probably going to combust in flames. (Dear Pitiful Dolorosa in the bubbles, please have mercy on this Jade Blood.)

Daraya’s eyeliner is smudged, and that annoys Lynera’s completely ravished sense of decorum for some reason, so she reaches with a thumb, minding her claws, to clean the underside of one eye, and Daraya looks at her. Really looks at her, with hooded eyes and full-out blown pupils. (Maybe, just maybe, Lynera wants to kiss her a little bit again? Is that wrong? Actually, why would that be wrong?)

A part of Lynera is screaming at her to stop. Because she’s amputated her socializing skills so much that anything else besides an acquainted is strictly FORBIDDEN territory. Bronya and her charge, Wanshi, are in a weird grey-ish area. (Non-Jade Bloods are terrifying, they'll probably lie to Lynera and cull a Matron, and then Lynera would obviously be the one at fault and get executed.)

God, Lynera’s so fucked up.

But now is not the time to think about all that mess.

Lynera doesn’t know if it’s her the one who leans forward this time or if it’s Daraya, but they’re kissing again, and it’s less fervent. Lynera’s pretty sure neither of them wants to think about the consequential branches all of this is going to generate. So she mutes the screaming part of her brain that’s advising her to stop and places her palms over the undercut part of Daraya’s scalp, keening highly when Daraya grabs one of her horns and bares her neck out.

Lynera’s skin feels weirdly sensitive when Daraya leaves her lips and hovers over her neck, and Lynera clams down hard on her vocal cords before any other embarrassing sounds escape her larynx. She’s not implying she doesn't like being the submissive vase- It’s just- She’s NOT used to being on the receiving end, and the fog of unfamiliar emotions keep growing by the second.

When Daraya’s lips touch the patch of skin between her neck and jaw, Lynera involuntarily parts her lips. She feels the inside of her rib cage warm up and her breathing become swallower. A rumbling noise starts from deep within her ribs, and she can't help her throat before the sensation expands like melted bliss and contracts, starting again and leaving her vocal cords hypersensitive and Lynera a disoriented mess.

Daraya has to feel the vibrating rumbling of her chest and finally stops mortifying her throat like a petulant rainbow drinker before hovering over Lynera’s mouth.

“Are you seriously purring?” Daraya asks in disbelief, and Lynera finally realizes what’s happening. She's purring. Lynera needs to stop, this is so indecent. She bows her head and tucks her chin against her neck before faltering, trying to stop the sounds that reverberate throughout her breast.

Daraya trembles and licks her fangs with full-blown black pupils, “No. Don't stop that,” she breathes, “it’s hot.”

She’s kissing her again, Daraya-like and chaotic. Lynera’s mind is firing half a cylinder but she finally, finally manages to run her palms over the arms framing her head and- Oh, those muscles are definitely not from working here at the caverns. Out of all of them, Daraya is the worst when it comes to following a routine, but, maybe Lynera can be more permissive with her now? Is that- That’s something that can happen, right?

For some reason Lynera can't seem to focus on any of that, because it doesn’t involve kissing Daraya, or how well toned her arms are. While Lynera’s on the lean, skin-ish part of the spectrum, (she’s still pretty sure she can stand her ground against a troll that tips her off) Daraya definitely has more stamina than her, which is weird because she’s been slacking off on her duties, so she doesn’t know where--

Daraya suddenly decides that now is an excellent moment to roll her hips and if there was any pretense of propriety left it just got blasted out of the block, annihilated. It’s probably reaching systems the Empress herself hasn't conquered yet. Lynera gasps and becomes hyperaware of her lower half. She doesn't know what Daraya has in mind, but her bulge feels on the verge of intensely warm and coils lazily inside of her. This is bad, Lynera’s knees clamp around Daraya’s waist, who hums against Lynera’s mouth and that must be the lewdest thing Lynera’s ever heard--

A palmhusk starts sounding. It’s Lynera’s. She needs to answer that. She palms her skirt blindly for her pocket. Nobody ever calls her unless it’s something urgent. (Which is mostly Bronya making sure nobody’s ditching their shifts in the city.)

Oh.

Oh, God.

 _ _Bronya__.

Lynera unrelentingly nudges Daraya away, who reluctantly complies and sits on her heels, breathing heavily. “What, are you seriously going to answer that?” Lynera ignores her, and the way Daraya’s hair is sticking out in odd places. (It __is__ , Bronya calling her, God, why does she have to be the one who feels guilty?)

“Bronya, hi!” Lynera answers and Daraya’s face crumbles in umbrage. She takes the bottle from the floor and stands up. God, Lynera hopes she sounds sober; this is why she doesn’t drink, because bad things happen. Not that kissing Daraya felt like a bad thing, but- Lynera SHOULDN’T have. What was she thinking about? It's __Daraya__.

Bronya’s saying something along the lines of being sorry, but she needs help in one of the zones? Lynera’s not sure if it’s the Beta or the Alpha, but she agrees wholeheartedly telling her she got done assigning the wrigglers a while ago, “Of course! Do you need me now?”

Daraya has stomped out of the room by the time Lynera hurriedly starts stacking the papers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Homestuck epilogue fucked me up harder than youtube rewind.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bronya = alignedNourice  
> Daraya = xanaxHag  
> Lanque = evanescentKallipygous  
> Lynera = skepticalTaxidermist  
> Wanshi = emeraldClaw

alignedNourice [AN]  RIGHT NOW opened memo on board vV Really Important Notice! Vv 

AN: I was just notified that in a week from now a Vestalanchorite is going to come and check on our work!  
AN: I know it's really sudden. But that's no excuse for not striving in the week to come!  
AN: So, I expect everyone to:  
AN: 1. Keep on excelling in your tasks, like always!  
AN: 2. Make sure the water in the seadweller enclosure is in pristine condition.  
AN: 3. No feeding the Mothergrubs anything else that is not their food, please!

evanescentKallipygous [EK]  RIGHT NOW responded to memo. 

EK: I’d rather skip the Matrons, queen.  
EK: I'll look after the parcels from rusts to oliVes.

emeraldClaw [EC]  RIGHT NOW responded to memo. 

EC: []aW, i Wanted to look after the olives[]

EK: Wanshi can help me look after the oliVes.

EC: []omg it’s going to be so much fun With you![]

xanaxHag [XH]  RIGHT NOW responded to memo. 

XH: ▲I’m not setting foot anywhere near the matrons either▼  
XH: ▲I'll take the rest of the grubs if I really have to do something▼  
XH: ▲besides I dont even know why we are doing this▼

skepticalTaxidermist [ST]  RIGHT NOW responded to memo. 

ST: -WELL! if you actually read the books about the hierarchical system i assigned you instead of !!! SCRIBBLING !!! on them  
ST: -you’d know that depending on what you EXCELL in the brooding caverns you’re either going to be assigned to the militant supporting group the enclave or serfdom.  
ST: -you might even be rehatched now! since you were assigned to the enclave

XH: ▲▲look who decided to come out of the closet she’s been hiding inside again▼▼  
XH: ▲also, yay. death, chastity or slavery▼

ST: -!!! UM !!!  
ST: -dont even THINK about talking to me in that way!

XH: ▲do I need to smash the shout pole to make you happy now or what▼

EC: []What exactly do you mean by death?[]

EK: Daraya.

XH: ▲I was just joking wanshi. honestly, I’m SO thrilled to go to the enclave and look after spiked balls▼

ST: -!  
ST: -being chosen to form part of the enclave entails !!! MUCH !!! more than that  
ST: -and they are called unhatched matriorbs just so YOU now

XH: ▲▲▲prickly sanctified balloons▼▼▼

EC: []oWotriorbs![]

XH: ▲well played, there. I cant possibly beat that▼

AN: vV Please stop spamming the log! Vv  
AN: Unless you want me to change the wifi password for the next three weeks and place a lusus at the entrance of the caverns, that is.

ST: -um  
ST: -bronya  
ST: -i dont mind looking after both the matrons  
ST: -if thats okay with you  
ST: -its not that big of a deal

AN: Thank you Lynera, it’s really kind of you to offer.  
AN: But I know that none of us are going to agree on what we should do in an orderly manner.  
AN: So I already have a plan for everything!

ST: -excellent

EK: No matter What she says, you alWays find it exceptional.

ST: -are you !!! IMPLYING !!! anything ???

EK: Oh, no. I’m not implying anything, I just think it’s cute.

ST: -oh  
ST: -t  
ST: -um  
ST: -thanks

AN: vV EVERYONE! Vv

XH: ▲damn, looks like we’re gonna get the whipping▼

EC: []the What?[]

ST: YES just like !!! WHIPPING CREAM !!! lol

EK: Daraya, I sWear to God.

XH: ▲sorry not sorry▼

EC: []Why do you all keep ignoring my questions![]

EC  is now an idle chum! 

ST: -bronya  
ST: -what were you going to say about your plan

EK: AlWays the attentiVe one.

ST: -s  
ST: -stop

AN: Yes, like I was saying.  
AN: 1. Lanque, Daraya, and Lynera are going to clean and make sure both the Beta and Alpha zones -that includes the Mothergrubs- are kept in prime condition.  
AN: 2. Wanshi and I are going to ensure the wrigglers in the selection area are in good shape, and we’ll also try to clear the area of many lusii as possible.  
AN: 3. We’re ALL going to clean the Jade Quarters.  
AN: 4. There are also some minor tasks we have to take care of, but I’ll send a private schedule to everyone later with times and shifts.

XH: ▲▲▲ uuuuugh, I’m NOT going to look after a matron they are such fussy, cocky bitches▼▼▼

ST: -!!! LANGUAGE !!!

XH: ▲▲▲stuck up prissy weirdos who cant be bothered to show their faces because they’re oh, so high-and-mighty▼▼▼

AN: Daraya!

XH: ▲daraya this, daraya that, UGH I’m going to have a fucking stroke one of these days▼

XH  is now an idle chum!

EK: Oh my, she’s a bit more crankier than usual.

emeraldClaw [EC]  RIGHT NOW responded to memo. 

EC: []my face When my friends fight ùWú[]  
EC: []i knoW that We are all really nervous because an adult is coming, but i think that Bronya is right[]  
EC: []maybe daraya, bronya and lynera could look after the matrons While Lanque and i tend the Wrigglers and lusii[]

xanaxHag [XH]  RIGHT NOW responded to memo. 

XH: ▲you just changed yourself▼

EC: []ooof uWu[]

XH: ▲look, I dont care just send me a message when you all finally agree on something▼

XH  ceased responding to memo.

EK: Alright. AnyWays, I agree with Wanshi’s reform.

EC: []thanks genteelfang! oWo[]

EK: Dont you fucking dare.

AN: Alright... I’ll just change Wanshi. But that’s about it!  
AN: We all know what happened the last time we began exchanging turns.

EK: It’s kind of extreme to say that covering each other shifts Was the reason the seadWeller enclosure caught fire.  
EK: HoW Was I supposed to knoW violet’s produce a flammable oil.

ST: -the books  
ST: -its all in the !!! BOOKS !!!

AN: vV We could have gotten culled! Vv  
AN: Well, you all know what to expect. Make sure to read the files later and do your best!  
AN: I’m serious, don’t do anything stupid in the week to come, or there will be consequences.  
AN: Now off you go!

AN  ceased responding to memo.

EC: []What’s a vestalanchorite?[]

ST: -one of the highest ranks inside the enclave, they estimate the life-span of a mothergrub so they can recollect the matriorbs  
ST: -they are also in charge of rehatching jades into vestal sisters

EK: They’re tasked with looking after the oWotriorbs.

ST  ceased responding to memo.

EC: []Where are you being sent to lanque?[]

EK: Serfdom.

EC: []i hope i get sent there too. that Way We might reencounter each other again even after leaving alternia![]

EK: ... That Would be nice, yes.  
EK: Where are you?

EC: []in the violet compound, hiding from ambushers![]

EK: No Way.  
EK: Are you really sure about that EmeraldclaW?

EC: []omg! oWo[]

EC  ceased responding to memo.  
EK  ceased responding to memo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fun.


	5. Chapter 5

“Are you sure you don’t need assistance with the Alpha Mothergrub?” Maybe Bronya will reconsider her decision and take Lynera with her? She’d certainly prefer that, yes. Bronya taps her foot and smiles exasperated, pleading her to comply through her actions. Lynera suspected as much. Instead, she’s stuck dealing with _Daraya_.

Who for the past three days has been pointedly Not Looking At Lynera.

She’s been ignoring Daraya in her own way too, because, what’s there to talk about? NOTHING! Lynera can go happily down this road; everyone makes slips now and then! Sometimes you run away from parties and sometimes you regret making out with certain people. Yes. Nothing to worry about, that’s just how life works! LOL.

Also, Lynera’s life would be so much easier if Bronya would just let her tag along and help. She can almost picture the two of them in the poorly lit cavern, polishing the Matron’s horns together while a myriad of wrigglers around them engage in the bloody battle of natural selection. Maybe Bronya would even take her hand on the way there? Lynera doesn’t want much, what else can a Jade ask for--

Daraya scoffs impatiently, and Lynera glares daggers at her when she’s pulled out of her reverie. Daraya may be ignoring her, but she’s been behaving like an insufferable bitch ever since Lynera knocked on her door this morning to get dressed ALREADY because, __of course__ , she had to sleep in when her shift was due with Lynera.

She’s wearing a black denim jacket and a mini skirt, along with the usual combat boots. Not the most appropriate attire for working on sacred grounds but Lynera’s disapproving stares aren’t effective when Daraya’s pretending she doesn’t exist. The nerve of her.

One day.

One day she’ll grow out of this attitude.

Bronya places a hand on Lynera’s shoulder, and inadvertently calms her fuming thoughts, “Thank you dear, but you don’t need to fret about me! Besides,” she steps closer, and Lynera holds her breath, acutely aware of bergamot and jasmine, “Daraya needs to learn how to handle a Mothergrub without bribing them. I’m worried... And Vestalanchorites aren’t exactly known for their mercy.” Bronya lowers her voice with a guilty look and spares a glance at Daraya, who’s sitting on the steps of the Quarters trying to look sullen while Karako plays with her palmhusk. “And since I’m busy with paperwork and my shifts, I know you’re the perfect troll for the job!”

“Ah,” Lynera says unconvinced, side-eyeing Daraya, who softly hums when Karako honks confused and signs him to tilt her palmhusk sideways, “if you say so.”

“I do say so!” Bronya nods excitedly and hands Lynera a haversack with an endless supply of mops and waxes for shining chitin, “And since one, you’ve dealt with the Beta Matron for five consecutive sweeps and, two--”

“Sorry to be the voice of reason,” Daraya interrupts and stands up, “but can we like, get going already? I don’t mean to interrupt this heart-to-heart, but I’ve got other stuff to do you know.”

Lynera’s fangs start to show in the rise of a gnarl when she approaches with Karako in tow, and Daraya rolls her eyes before looking at Bronya. What? If she has so much haste she can get going already, Lynera will catch up when she’s finished talking with Bronya.

“Right!” Bronya laughs awkwardly trying to cut the tension, “There’s so much to do, and we only have three more days!” She nudges Lynera towards Daraya and calls Karako, who happily rushes to take her hand. “Shoo with both of you!”

Daraya starts walking through the big expanse of the cavern towards the tunnel, and Lynera gives up before trailing behind. She’s what, half a sweep older than Daraya? And now she needs to teach her about handling a Mothergrub?

Recently installed lamps illuminate the passageway they enter, one of the many renovations Her Youngest Imperious Condescension is doing on: ‘ol ass monuments nobody really cares about but someone gotta keep ’em up and runnin’ lmao #StopSpammingAboutCultureAlready.’ The artificial lightning drowns the tissue of ancient fluorescent fungi over the walls, and Lynera squints before glaring at the back of Daraya’s head.

“What is WRONG with you!” She hisses when she’s sure they’re far enough from the entrance.

Daraya looks back disinterested and gives her an apathetic shrug, “Dunno’ what you’re talking about, I just have stuff to do.”

Lynera sneers and crosses her arms, matching Daraya’s quick pace, “Really? What sort of stuff.”

“What do you care,” Daraya grumbles stepping away and kicking a rock, “Stuff.”

“And don’t even get me started on the way you talked to Bronya!”

Daraya glowers before fisting her hands inside the pockets of her denim, “You’ve never complained about the way I say things before,” she stops for a second before laughing sourly to herself, “No, you know what? You do complain, always. But it’s hard to understand you with all the screaming.”

“I do NOT scream!” Lynera counters aloud, placing a hand against her chest, offended. She’s vocal with her complaints, but that’s because nobody EVER makes an effort on anything!

Daraya glares at her from behind her bangs with cynical eyes before shaking her head and hastening her pace. “Whatever you say.”

Pitch-dark tendrils start to cloud Lynera’s judgment, and she finds herself eyeing Daraya’s neck predatorily before breathing in shakily through her nose. Lynera doesn’t need __this__ kind of emotions right now. She bites the inside of her cheek and counts to ten before tightening the single-strapped bag on her shoulder.

“BESIDES,” she exclaims, forcing her mind to focus on something else, anything. “I presumed that after, well-” Her confidence rapidly dies down and her voice wavers. Daraya’s shoulders visibly hitch and thank God she isn’t looking at her right now, “After- What happened,” Lynera motions with a hand before looking at her emerald loafers, “We could be. I don’t know. F- Fr--”

“Friends?”

“Yeah?” Lynera inquires, glancing hopefully at Daraya and fidgeting with her claws.

“... You’ve got to be FUCKING KIDDING ME,” Daraya retaliates like a firework before getting on Lynera’s face, “Why the fuck would I be your friend?”

“We’re not?” Lynera voices tentatively and Daraya wrinkles her nose, giving her a lopsided sneer before storming off. Lynera feels something inside her chest snap, and she scowls, setting off towards Daraya’s retreating form, “Well, I’m SORRY for assuming so!”

“What the fuck Lynera? How the fuck are we going to be friends after that--”

“I was just asking!” Lynera counters resentful, sheathing and unsheathing her claws.

“And then you go and hole yourself in that stupid study of yours, UGH.”

“I go there to-” To what. Lynera goes there to drown herself in books and the scant few hobbies she has, (Which include, but are not limited to: one, develop photos of Bronya, two, taxidermy and three, write angsty sonnets about the former) in the hopes the things which eat away her mind will eventually die or disappear.

After an awkwardly tense moment in which Daraya takes her rage out in kicking rocks, and Lynera tries to keep her nerves at bay by not jumping her, Daraya scoffs before giving her a condescending leer. “Oh it’s NOTHING Daraya!” she mocks, imitating Lynera, “I’m just gonna seclude myself in here after making out with you, I’m sure it’s not because I feel DISGUSTED by what I did--”

“Don’t you DARE put words in my mouth Daraya,” Lynera growls. She SHOULN’T have __kissed__ her. DARAYA shouldn’t have kissed her, because it’s Daraya- and well-- WELL, Lynera’s NOT disgusted with herself, BUT she’s distraught. Because why on Alternia would she even kiss someone so cruel. Antagonizing Lynera when she tried to make things up by suggesting they could be--

DAMN IT.

Daraya glooms at the threat hidden below Lynera’s sub-vocals with glassy eyes and presses her lips together, marching down the corridor, “Whatever, let’s just get this over with.”

***

There’s a unspokenly tense agreement of silence. From the moment they enter the high, eerie cave housing the Mothergrub inside a crater, to the assembly of the stairs near the segmented body of the old Matron, since her imposing alabaster horns soar over the reach of the tallest troll.

It’s early in the evening, and most grubs are still asleep, which Lynera’s thankful for, otherwise, instead of the overwhelming silence around her shoulders, the screeching of newborn wrigglers would be unbearable.

The Mothergrub blinks her pitch eyes slowly, acknowledging their presence while they get to work. Lynera places a bottle of clear water on her mouth before walking up the stairs and climbing the chitinous exoskeleton, mindful of the fragile plates connecting the vestigial wings to her thorax.

The moisture of the cave should usually be enough to condense on the transparent film of her wings and clean away any gathered dirt with a quick flick of muscles. But during past perigees, this zone of the caverns has become unusually dry, and since a visit from an adult is due, there’s no reason to be careless.

Lynera sits between the plates and focuses on cleaning the gathered dust with a wet cloth, patting the chitin of an upper wing. After recognizing the command, the Matron complies and spreads the appendages, displaying the usually hidden space between top and hind wings. After some minutes of brooming and rinsing, Lynera starts to pick on some threatening sub-acoustic thrills, which she initially ignores, since Daraya is new around this zone and her presence is probably disconcerting for the senior Mothergrub.

Her ears rise when the intonation escalates to a dangerous pitch.

Lynera scrambles down the thorax, but before she can tell Daraya to back away because the Matron is making some alarmingly sibilating intonations she’s never heard before, (which Daraya seems naïvely oblivious to, for some reason) the Matron whips her head and gnarls loudly.

“FUCK!” Lynera picks out on Daraya’s scream and the stream of creative insults after. She smells the blood before she sees it, and unintentionally snarls at the Mothergrub she’s tended for the last five sweeps, unsheathing her bayonet.

Lynera’s unquestionably going to get culled now. If the Imperial Drones don’t cull her for growling at a Sacred Lusus, the Mothergrub is going to. She’s going to vanish here and be eaten by wrigglers. Then someone is going to come over her corpse and shrug her off, because ‘Uh, is that Jade. The no-friend, hysteric one.’- And that’s how Alternia is going to remember her legacy--

She rushes to the front and, for some reason unbeknownst to her, the Matron opens her jaws and releases a torn jacket sleeve, submissively recoiling when she hears Lynera hiss.

There were baseless rumors when Lynera was a wriggler, about the Mothergrubs being extremely compliant towards Jades and hostile against other castes. Some archaic defense mechanism to protect grubs from strangers. Still, Daraya must have done some extremely stupid to piss the Matron off in such a way--

There’s blood, so much blood on the floor. Daraya’s grabbing her arm and crouching, trying to block the river gushing down her arm, she flinches when she sees Lynera with a knife. Lynera wants to kneel and help her stop the bleeding but--

But.

“That’s not a shade of jade,” Lynera speaks instead, and steps back.

“What are you talking about,” Daraya counters startled, looking frantically around for something to clean up the blood from her forearm, “of course it is.”

“NO, it’s not!” Lynera asserts loudly in disbelief.

She knows the hues of the Hemospectrum by memory. From maroon to fuchsia. 264 shades. The twenty-four almost identical chromas of Jade burned in the back of her mind by duty. The blood pooling on the ground is not one of them- The blood on the ground is a shade she’s never seen before. Lynera’s torn between lashing at the girl in front of her like her role in the caverns demands her to or trying to stop Daraya from bleeding to death.

The Matron is blind, but Lynera can feel her judgmental eyes in the darkness.

Daraya’s a mutant.

It’s a cullable offense to touch a Mothergrub if you’re not jade blooded. Daraya ought to be culled. (But the girl is looking on the verge of tears trying to stop the stream of blood oozing down her arm.) Should Lynera notify the Drones? Should she tell Bronya? Oh God, is someone going to make her cull Daraya?

“You’re not a Jade Blood,” Lynera repeats like a mantra because hopefully the light from the torches around the crater is tricking her eyes and the coloration in the floor will change shades in a moment, “or an Olive Blood.”

Daraya tries to make a break for the passageway, but Lynera lashes and grabs her uninjured arm, “Where do you think you’re going Daraya!?”

Daraya hisses, visibly distressed by the sight of the bayonet in Lynera’s hand and tries to claw her eyes out, afraid that Lynera will hurt her, “Let me go! Stop it!” Daraya snarls with bared fangs. Lynera tries to dodge the angry swats, which is an unsurprisingly ineffective tactic when she’s less than a foot away from an extremely riled troll, “NO- STOP- What WAS that!”

“What happens when you just. Won’t. Let. Me. GO!” Daraya cries trying to break free of the hold, sinking her claws on Lynera’s wrist and falling backward when Lynera gasps and releases her arm.

“STOP BEHAVING LIKE A WRIGGLER DARAYA,” Lynera warns, storming forward because Dear God is she testing her patience right now. Daraya keens and tries to get out of her way, stumbling back and protecting her neck with her arms, “Then stop treating me like a fucking child!”

It’s roughly been a hundred sweeps since a Jade officially notified a culled Lime Blood in their records, so between the waves of chaos clouding her judgment, Lynera’s lost with the way she should act with the girl glowering at her feet. She’s a mutant, a deviation from the status quo of the Hemospectrum. ALL divergent wrigglers ought to be culled out of mercy; it’s the foundation of their caste.

Of Jade Bloods.

Of Lynera’s caste.

An ageless tradition to relieve them from a life filled with pain and suffering.

But Daraya’s not a wriggler. She’s a teenager. She’s Daraya. But it’s Lime. The blood in the ground is Lime, and she is a Lime Blood and--

And Lynera’s disappointed with what she finds inside herself. She can’t bring herself to harm Daraya. She’s a failure to the very first responsibility of her caste. She can’t cull a mutant- She _can’t_ cull Daraya.

She's not a wriggler; she’s a person. An extremely annoying troll for sure, but that’s obviously not the point.

It feels wrong, incredibly wrong.

Lynera sheathes her bayonet and sighs defeated before grabbing Daraya’s wrist and tugging at her arm so she can see the injury.

“What the fuck are you doing? Daraya demands, trying to pull her arm away and baring her fangs.

“Can you, for once in your life, stop complaining,” Lynera grumbles before rotating Daraya’s wrist a little more forcefully than necessary. Daraya licks her canines, restraining herself, though that doesn’t stop her from scowling at Lynera with bitter, dark eyes.

It’s gory, and looks excruciating. Lynera ignores the sickness burning at the back of her throat because this is no worse than skinning a skull. There are six dents in total, four in the inner part of her forearm reaching muscle and two between elbow and wrist, the bone seems to be intact, but those extensors look torn.

“Move your fingers,” Lynera demands, and Daraya scowls before looking away. “Daraya I swear to--”

“I can’t! I can’t move my fingers. I’m __trying__ ,” Daraya’s biting her cheek pretending she isn’t on the verge of tears and Lynera releases her wrist, tightlipped. She turns away and searches the haversack for anything to make a tourniquet with while Daraya presses her face against her knees and mutters something.

“Daraya I can’t understand you if you mumble,” Lynera retaliates stressed because she’s somewhat busy right now and her composure is on a tight limbo between exasperation and panic.

“I said, ‘are you going to cull me?’” Lynera freezes before side-eyeing Daraya, who’s looking at her with an expression that alarms Lynera. “No! I-,” She looks around before changing the subject, “Running away and dripping all over the floor is not the BEST of ideas, _stay quiet._ ”

“You should do it you know,” Daraya murmurs with unfocused eyes, “it’s just a matter of time before someone else finds out.”

Lynera eyes her speechless, Daraya’s starting to perturb her.

“Don’t give me that look.” Daraya continues with a monotonic voice, “I’d rather be culled here--”

“Daraya stop.”

“--than spend the rest of my days rotting away in space church praying to a bunch of vainglorious sanctified eggs--”

“ _ _SHUT UP!__ ” Lynera wants to hit her, so badly. Maybe that will knock some sense into her and stop her from saying such harming things. She just made her mind about being a failure to her caste and now Daraya’s asking her to--

Daraya opens her mouth again, “Just do it, I know you’re thinking about it--”

The sound of a slap echoes through the cave and Lynera pulls a stunned Daraya to her feet before taking the ripped denim from around her shoulders.

“What is wrong with you!” Daraya screams, trying to get away and Lynera snarls loudly, fixing her with a look that shuts her up.

“If I hear anything else come out of your mouth, believe me when I say I WILL knock you out,” She’s going to lose it, her fingers are trembling, and she gores the jacket before using the fabric to tight a knot around the wound. Daraya grimaces by the unexpected pressure and pulls her arm out of Lynera’s grasp and against her chest, “Stop hurting me! Calm down!” Daraya counters, looking at her shocked and touching her bright green cheek.

NO.

Lynera __isn’t__  going to calm down. Because what’s wrong with this girl and whatever just came out of her mouth.

“If I see,” Lynera warns, sub-acoustic threats swarming her words, “a drop of blood from here to my office, the Imperial Drones are going to be the least of your concerns.” She takes her keys out of her vest, and Daraya snarls in response. “I’m going to my block.” She retaliates childishly, glaring at Lynera.

They exchange strained looks for a long, tense moment before Lynera throws her hands in the air, defeated. “You know what? ALRIGHT, go off!”

Daraya’s glare turns into a hurt one, and she glances at the passageway from the corner of her eye.

“... No.”

Lynera grounds her face in her palms, extremely exasperated. “What do you mean no!”

“I’m- I don’t know,” Daraya murmurs, her voice cracking, “I might encounter someone else.”

“That’s why I’m telling you to go to my office!”

“...”

Daraya scowls at the keys in Lynera’s hands before reluctantly taking them, acting as if accepting help from someone else is a turning point her sulky persona could do without, “Why aren’t __you__  coming?” She asks suspiciously.

“ONE, we need a cauterizer and TWO, I obviously need to clean this mess up,” Lynera waves with her hand in the direction of the Mothergrub; an alarming lime color covers the ivory jaws of the Matron, who’s facing Daraya with disturbing sharp focus.

Daraya flinches, eyes filled with skepticism and presses her wrapped arm against her chest, she wrinkles her nose and opens her mouth to say something possibly snarky or sarcastic but catches herself, looking away and ultimately slouching towards the passageway. When she's out of her sight Lynera clenches her jaw and spares a glance to the ripped jacket sleeve on the floor.

What did she just get herself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, officially there are 288 signs. But since Lime Bloods were like, erased from Alternia because they threatened the lavish life of Highbloods, the official number of signs here is 264 and Lime wrigglers are considered mutants.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight heads up for mentions of self-harm.

Daraya doesn’t know where she is, or what’s happening. Her breaths feel stretched and short like she’s unable to fill her lungs with oxygen as much as she tries to gasp for air. Her mind’s a foggy mess, and the last thing she recalls is blacking out. Weird, because what usually follows after fainting is the blow against the ground.

Is she dead? Extreme hemorrhage is a pretty shitty way to die. If she ever has a say in the matter, she’ll definitely fuck some things up. Strike a fire, wreak some High Blood’s lawn, punch anyone who tries to stop her. Something cool to go out with.

So, if she’s honest with herself, something which rarely happens, Daraya’s pretty fucking disappointed with this kind of death. Can she take it back? Is this what being dead means? Pondering on the what-ifs of her life for eternity? On the count to three she’s going to open her eyes.

That’s stupid. What is she, a wriggler? She isn’t going to count to three. She wants to stop being asleep because that’s what’s happening. She’s sleeping. And she’s still not waking up. Daraya’s starting to regret it all, this is terrifying. She doesn’t want to be alone with her thoughts for forever.

Please, anyone, anybody--

The smell of burnt flesh and a violent throb of pain cursing up her arm trigger her fight-or-flight instincts like a basin of cold water. Ready to tear down whatever’s scorching her arm, Daraya snarls and tries to yank it away. However, a forceful hand against her chest and a command to stay still keep her down.

What the fuck?

Daraya squints, and through the throbbing pain hazing her mind, she makes out Lynera fussing with something on her forearm. Oh. Well, shit. It really happened, didn’t it? All that mess is now out there. She’d like to pretend nothing’s wrong and come back with an ‘Oh, I’m sorry for moving when there’s a leech salivating blistering spit on my skin,’ but a pained groan comes out of her mouth instead.

Lynera picks up on the sound and looks at her, “Oh! Are you awake?” She asks, relieved.

Daraya reluctantly opens her eyes. There are caste books and wrinkled clothes scattered all through the floor and on the half-made bed across the room. Not what one would expect from uptight Lynera Skalbi and Daraya decides to archive that intel for later. She sees a slightly ajar door on the corner and wonders, is this Lynera’s study? Knowing her she probably uses this block more than the one in the Quarters. The room’s an honest mess and-- is that a deer skull hanging from the wall? Daraya closes her eyes and takes her first long break for air before ultimately answering Lynera.

“Unfortunately,” Lynera flinches at her hoarse voice and Daraya would find the action amusing if it weren’t for her situation. Ugh, Lynera definitely dragged her passed out ass inside didn’t she? So fucking embarrassing. Daraya abstractedly tenses her arm and a thunder of pain flashes through the muscle, making her cringe in distress, “It fucking huuurts.”

For the record, she’s complaining, not whining. There’s a huge difference between the two.

Lynera nods guiltily before laying the leech over another gash, “If you clench your fist is going to hurt more.”

Daraya side-eyes Lynera skeptically before complying. This time she’s prepared when the cauterizer bites down, and she breathes in, trying to ignore the way its saliva sears the wound and makes her skin boil. This all would have been __so__ much easier if she’d been alone when the Mothergrub lashed. Daraya just needs some bandages and jade dye. Is not like this is the first time she’s suffered cuts. Sure, maybe she’s never experienced a small case of extreme blood loss but, whatever.

“I think,” Daraya’s brought out of her mullings by Lynera, who looks away crossed before glancing at the lashes again, “I think the Matrons dislike you because you aren’t a Jade Blood.”

“Well, DUH,” Daraya retaliates loudly; partly because her arm is killing her and partly because dude, it’s so fucking obvious the Mothergrubs have a grudge on her. This is what happens when nobody listens. She knew Bronya was going to assign her to the senior Matron because she has zero experience with her. But fuck, Daraya never thought the Beta was going to be such a bitch. The other one growls sometimes or stares at Daraya in a weirdly intense way, but that’s it. She can easily win her over with grubloaf.

Apparently, sweet talk doesn’t work with decrepit Mothergrubs.

Lynera bites her lip before wiping the excess blood from her arm, she looks so lost. Daraya would needle her about the awkwardness if it weren’t because she’s the one sprawled on a divan having her arm toasted.

“So,” Daraya straightens up despite Lynera’s best efforts to keep her lying down, “I can’t do a good job attending them if they dislike me, right?”

“I suppose,” Lynera blinks, not sure of what Daraya means, “you could say that.”

Daraya nods, looking down at Lynera who’s staring at her confused, “So you were wrong all those times you said I was the worst at looking after Matrons because it’s not __my__ fault.” Lynera frowns before placing the leech over the final slash and Daraya sees an annoyed crease between her brows, “Daraya you’re a Lime Blood! Of course you shouldn’t be tending Matrons!”

Daraya swallows down a groan when the cauterizer bites, “I told everyone the other night in the log!”

“You were being an annoying little brat the other night in the log!” Lynera hisses, ultimately losing her cool and glaring at Daraya with an ‘I can’t believe you’re focusing on that face.’ Daraya raises an eyebrow and snorts disdainfully, “What was I supposed to say, ‘Im sorry y’all, but like, I’m actually a Lime because some amateur Jade mistook my hue when I was a grub. Oh don’t mind me, I’m just gonna look after the fucking Indigos?’”

Daraya flinches when Lynera yanks the cauterizer away from her skin and throws the screeching leech inside a bin. “I guess NOT! but-” Lynera shakes her head exasperated before slouching on the bed, “Since when have __you__ known?”

Daraya looks at the scorched flesh of her forearm, trying to avoid the question. Ugh, that’s going to leave a gnarly scar. She shrugs, “Look, it’s stupid,” Lynera starts tapping her claws against the bed, implacable. Daraya rolls her eyes before resuming, “I hadn’t really thought my blood color was that different until I found out there were no actual shades recorded like mine.” Lynera raises both eyebrows, and Daraya makes out a shadow of empathy underlying her surprise, “this is dumb, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Daraya, we can’t change the subject!” Lynera counters and stands up, pacing around the room. Daraya feels like snapping and calling her out on making this about herself, but Lynera keeps on rambling, “What are we going to do when--”

“--you know, we __can__ change the subject. Just pretend you saw nothing while I stay the fuck away from the--”

“--you need to give a sample of your blood for Hierarchical purity! Daraya, The Enclave!” Daraya shakes her head before standing up and trying to storm out of the block. She feels the room spin, and her vision unfocuses for a second before she catches herself on the arm of the divan. Lynera takes a step towards her and Daraya hisses loudly, “Boo-hoo, stop trying to get involved in my life! That’s why I told you I was better off gone!”

“STOP SAYING THAT!” Lynera scowls shocked, baring her fangs.

“STOP MAKING ME THINK ABOUT IT THEN.”

“DARAYA, DO YOU EVEN HEAR WHAT YOU’RE SAYING?”

Daraya sneers before shrugging bitterly, “What, that society doesn’t mind if I die and neither do I--” She doesn’t get time to finish the sentence because Lynera lashes out and shoves her back. Daraya knocks her head against the wall on her way down and screams before grabbing the collar of Lynera’s shirt. “BITCH!” Daraya snaps angrily, Lynera may be fast and unpredictable, but she’s way stronger than her even in her fucked up state.

Daraya’s had to endure Lynera’s comments and bullshit for almost eight sweeps, so she won’t lie and say that the astonished face Lynera makes when she’s the one being held down by a really pissed off troll isn’t really fucking satisfying. Lynera tries to say something, eyes as wide as plates and Daraya’s tempted to rip her lips to shreds this time. Considering all that spawned the last time something similar happened, she refrains from doing so.

“I- What do you think you’re doing! I’m just trying to help you!” Lynera retaliates perplexed, trying to push her away and Daraya bares her fangs, making her freeze and keen submissively. “Just leave me alone,” Daraya grumbles, and when the hold becomes excruciating for the freshly seared bruise, she releases Lynera’s shirt, sulking against the other side of the divan. Lynera glares at her bewildered before smoothing out her clothes.

“I can’t.”

“What?” Daraya hisses annoyed, and Lynera fixes her with an off-puttingly intense glare before making up her mind about something, “leave you alone, I can’t. Because you may keep hurting yourself.”

Daraya follows Lynera’s gaze to the thick black bracelets covering her wrists. She crosses her arms, anger suddenly drowned by a wave of cold uneasiness. “... It wasn’t your fucking place to look,” Daraya whispers and looks away. What is she supposed to do? How is she supposed to get the anguish out of her head? This isn’t fair, and she doesn’t have a right to stare. What makes her even think Daraya needs her help? If anything Lynera’s the one who needs help with her weird fixations.

She hates her, so, so much. She hates her for prying, and for picking at her insecurities, and for being a Jade Blood and--

And for making her think about what’s going to happen.

“Are you gonna tell Bronya?” Daraya asks through gritted teeth. Because otherwise she’s going to have a panic attack, and she’d rather lose a limb than break down in front of Lynera. She knows that Bronya would never hurt someone based on their blood color, but. It’s Alternia.

Lynera bites her lip and looks helpless at Daraya, “Are you going to?”

Daraya sighs and stands up, waving with her uninjured hand, “Well, I know that if I don’t, you’re eventually going to, so.” Lynera looks away remorsefully before following her to the door and muttering something about having gauze in her foyer while Daraya opens the door.

What.

The fuck?

“... Man, your office looks like some sort of cheap BDSM dungeon.” This is an entirely different room from the one they were in and--

Is that an Iron maiden?

Wait.

“We are not focusing on what’s important HERE!” Lynera snarls blushing. She walks past Daraya and rummages through the insides of a drawer.

“Are those pictures of Bronya?” Daraya points at a board filled with dorky doodles and hearts painted around some poorly taken pictures of- yup, that’s definitely Bronya.

“HAHA! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Lynera screams and stands up, taking photos from the floor and cramming them between books and cabinets, “I just like DAGGERS and SKULLS!”

“And stalking Bronya apparently,” Daraya counters slightly diverted, watching a flustered Lynera run from one side of the room to the other collecting things. “I mean you do you, it’s just that all this seems kind of unhealth--”

Lynera fixes her with a threatening glare, and Daraya trails off before rethinking her words, “... Quirky?”

“ENOUGH, WE’RE DONE HERE!” Lynera blurts pushing the gauze between Daraya’s hands. “You may have a slight case of anemia and shock but--”

“You won’t mind coming to look after Bronya with me?” Daraya tries to sound as indifferent as she can, no big deal here. Just an apathetic question. Which is terribly hard when Lynera suddenly freezes and almost trips over a chair.

“What?”

Embarrassment swarms Daraya’s face, and she grits her teeth while Lynera stutters awkwardly. GOD, she can be so fucking insensitive sometimes. Lynera sees her intent to storm away and grabs her arm, “NO! I mean- YES! Daraya, hold-up.”

“Dude, forget it--”

“JUST,” Lynera grips her arm and looks away, trying to think of something to say, “I didn’t mean to be inconsiderate. It was sudden, I’ll go with you.”

“Ok, let’s go.”

“To find Bronya, yes.”

“You’re making this so awkward.” Daraya sighs. Lynera’s whole face flushes green, and she turns sharply when her eyes meet Daraya, leading the way out. Daraya trails behind her on semi-stable legs, and when Lynera seems uncertain about helping her upstairs she raises a hand, “Don’t even think about it. I’m cool, let’s just this fucking night done and over with.” Lynera stares at her wobbly legs with tight lips before sighing and ultimately turning away.

***

The first thing Bronya does when Daraya finishes spilling her guts is nod along understandingly before hugging her. Daraya stands surprised while exchanging looks with Lynera, who’s floating nearby looking all kinds of fidgety and embarrassed. She accepts the hug gingerly for the first five seconds before deciding it’s enough and pulling away.

Next Bronya demands Daraya to show her arm.

“It’s not because I don’t believe you,” Bronya asserts, “I just want to see the damage for myself.” Daraya pours her lips before raising her bandaged arm for inspection. She feels like a worn out rag-doll being passed around from fussy Jade to fussy Jade.

“Who?...” Bronya asks with knitted eyebrows and Daraya motions with her head towards Lynera. Bronya smiles sweetly and Daraya restrains herself from groaning loudly because, geez, that look was __so__ corny, “Alright, then I’ll leave it be.”

Bronya sighs after releasing her arm and places a hand against her chin, pondering something while Daraya and Lynera trade equally disconcerted looks.

“Well!” Bronya exclaims, clapping her hands and glancing at both of them with determination, “Everything’s good now, right?”

Lynera gapes, and Daraya looks at Bronya with disbelief. “Are you kidding?” She asks confused, Bronya shakes her head and places a hand on Daraya’s arm, “No dear, all I see here are two Jades who came to inform me about an accident!”

“What- But--” Lynera stammers helpless, looking at Bronya, “What about the Vestalanchorite?” Daraya nods anxiously because, well, that’s another whole mess she doesn’t want to think about, but. Bronya fixes Lynera with a ‘you aren’t helping’ face.

“We’ll just have to make sure Daraya doesn’t look after Mothergrubs, then.”

“Don’t I have to like, give a blood sample?” Daraya asks and recoils when she’s the one under Bronya’s piercing gaze.

“You know how things get mismatched these days, yes?” Daraya finds herself nodding along until Bronya hums worriedly looking away, “Though there __is__ a problem since we need a Teal to do the formalized paperwork.”

“I have a friend,” Daraya blurts out and is slightly taken aback by the surprised faces of both Bronya and Lynera. “That knows--”

“That you’re a Lime Blood!?” Lynera cuts her off perplexed. Bronya fixes her with another one of her looks again and Lynera looks away embarrassed. Daraya raises an eyebrow at the whole display and resumes talking, “Yes, that I’m a __mutant.__  So if the problem is finding an insurgent Teal we don’t need to worry about that.”

Bronya laughs tensely at Daraya’s choice of words before speaking, “That’s good! I think that you should take the rest of the night off, dear. I’m sure Lynera won’t mind covering your shift and I’ll talk Lanque into helping her with--”

“Like I said!” Lynera interrupts her, panicked, “I don’t mind looking after the Beta by myself.”

“... Alright,” Bronya answers before looking sternly at Daraya, “Don’t do anything stupid with that arm, yes? And if it starts bleeding again, just look for Lynera or me.”

Daraya tries to ignore the patronizing implications before waving an exasperated hand, “Ok, got it.” She adds, dragging her words before turning away.

“Where are you going?” Lynera inquires, and Daraya fixes her with a baffled look.

“To my block? Do I need to ask for permission?”

“OH! Of course, yes. Sure,” Lynera fiddles with her claws while Daraya raises an eyebrow and walks away. Bronya stares at the whole display slightly entertained before facing Lynera when Daraya’s finally out of sight.

“It was really nice of you to come along instead of... You know,” Bronya looks aside and Lynera smiles bashfully, “Yeah, I mean. I actually kind of PANICKED! And then Daraya was like, ‘ughh, you know we should go find Bronya,’ and I thought, yeah that’s probably for the best, Bronya will know what to do lol and,”

“And here we are.” Lynera finishes, glancing at Bronya’s entertained face.

“Regardless of your intentions, not many trolls think twice before finding a,” Bronya catches herself and looks around, trying to find the right words, “a shade off the records.”

Lynera nods before gazing towards the passageway that leads to their Quarters, “But what if the Vestalanchorite finds out?”

Bronya frowns and looks lost for a moment, something that momentarily catches Lynera off balance. She quickly composes herself and claps her hands, “The rite’s only soaking your head in water, so long as Daraya’s right about that friend of hers, there’s nothing to worry about!”

Lynera nods and Bronya smiles softly before taking her hand, “I’m going to miss you.” She says slowly, and Lynera’s whole world freezes.

What.

“W- What do you mean?” Lynera laughs nervously, and Bronya smiles sadly, “Having you around when we’re flown-off.” They exchange looks for a long moment before Lynera starts to feel heat crawling up her collar, “BUT, that’s not going to happen in half a sweep from now! We still have so much stuff to do... Here..” Bronya steps closer, placing a warm palm against Lynera’s cheek, successfully calming her down.

“I know it may be a bit presumptuous, but will you look after her out there?” Bronya asks gingerly, and Lynera feels nervousness radiating from her palm.

“Of course! Yes, whatever you need,” Lynera stammers, feeling like her mind is going to short-circuit with the way Bronya’s almost emerald eyes are burning through her. Lynera will do that, looking after Daraya is easy. Well, it’s not easy, but is something Bronya’s asking her to do, so, she’ll do it. She’ll do anything Bronya needs her to, because, well.

She loves her.

Bronya frowns, “Lynera, not because you think that I want you to,” she takes her hand away from Lynera’s cheek with a shadow of disappointment behind her eyes. Lynera grabs it before she can think better of it and clears her head, “I care about her! I’ll try to get Daraya in the same division as me, I promise. Like nothing’s changed!”

Bronya raises both eyebrows surprised and hugs Lynera. “Thank you.”

“Mmh!”

“Dear, don’t cry.”

“I’m not!” Lynera mutters, hiding her face in Bronya’s shoulder.

Being a teenager in a tyrannical, cruel autocracy is hard. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's going to get better from here on. Pinky swear.


End file.
